OBJECTIONS AND ANSWERS
If the preceding discussion has been to any degree convincing, the
reader may perhaps have put to himself a question which has often
presented itself to the author—why no complete æsthetic system has been
based on the psychology of feeling. In recent times some attempts have
indeed been made to deduce the æsthetic value of art-works from their
emotional content.[166] But we do not know of any comprehensive theory
in which all the distinctive features of art had been consistently
explained by reference to an emotionalistic principle. This fact is
so much the more remarkable as the importance of feeling has been at
least accidentally acknowledged by some of the greatest writers on
æsthetic, such as, for instance, Taine and Ruskin.[167] It cannot have
been without some reason that these authors have refrained from basing
their art-theories on the notion of a craving for expression,—which
would have provided a clear line of demarcation between æsthetic
and non-æsthetic activities,—and have instead explained art as an
intellectual function, which appears confused alternately with
scientific, philosophic, and ethical activity. An attempt to trace the
causes of this attitude will contribute to a further elucidation of the
emotionalistic theory of art.
It may be contended with some appearance of truth that as soon as
authors, who are themselves artists, have pronounced their opinion on
the purposes of their own art, those who are not artists have no call
to continue the discussion. But this would be to overlook the fact
that the pure artist, as well as the purely artistic activity, must be
considered as an abstraction. The bent of Goethe’s genius, for example,
was perhaps by nature quite as much towards science, particularly
philosophy, as towards art. Thus, although an artist may himself
lay the chief stress on the intellectual or ethical elements in his
work, his opinion should not induce us to give up the purely æsthetic
criteria which we need for the theoretical definition of art-production
as an activity to itself.
It is again only natural that intellectualistic elements should
occupy the foremost place in the practical art-ideals which artists
place before themselves and each other. Technical perfection is the
only quality which can be consciously and intentionally aimed at. In
works, therefore, which, like Herr Hirth’s _Physiologie der Kunst_,
are written from the point of view of the executive artist, this
quality has received special attention.[168] For those who teach it or
learn it, art must unavoidably appear as being chiefly a power and a
skill. But for the theoretical observer it is evident that no kind of
technical accomplishment, however wonderful it may be in itself, can
impart to a work that purely æsthetic merit, art-value. The differences
in the opinions of artists and theorists may therefore to a great
extent have their ground in the different aspects of art, differently
emphasised by either side to suit its own purposes.
It may, however, be objected that in the case of many artists and
æstheticians it has been more than a negative cause which has deterred
them from the emotionalistic interpretation. Goethe’s zealous
championship of the intellectualistic elements in art was no doubt
part of his crusade against prevailing sentimentalism.[169] There
are many expressions in the æsthetic writings of Schiller which in
their exaggeration would appear quite incomprehensible if we did not
take into account the polemic position which he maintained towards
the romantic currents in art.[170] In more recent times the reaction
against the sentimental ideals has given rise to theories which are
still more intellectualistic than the maxims of German classicism. By
their dislike of that art which exhibits all the personal and most
intimate emotions of the artist, the French Parnassians have been led
to deny completely the part of feeling in all genuine art; and the
mere existence of such a poetic school may be thought to prove the
inadequacy of the interpretation of art which has been put forward in
the preceding chapters.
The noblest expression of the personal pride that compels the artist to
conceive his production as a purely intellectual function may be found
in Leconte de Lisle’s sonnet “Les Montreurs,” where the poet refuses
to be a beggar for the gross pity or laughter of the crowd.
Dans mon orgueil muet, dans ma tombe sans gloire,
Dussé-je m’engloutir pour l’éternité noire,
Je ne te vendrai pas mon ivresse ou mon mal,
Je ne livrerai pas ma vie à tes huées,
Je ne danserai pas sur ton tréteau banal
Avec tes histrions et tes prostituées.[171]
Nothing could indeed be further from our intentions than to enter the
lists against the so-called Parnassian ideas. At a time when intimate
confessions seem to be the most sought-for things in literature, we
have reason to value every appeal to the dignity of the artist. But
it is only a confusion of ideas which can lead any one to think that
this dignity would be in any way infringed by the adoption of an
emotionalistic art-theory. We have been especially anxious not to be
misunderstood on this point, and this is the only reason why in the
preceding chapters we have taken so much pains to disentangle the
psychology of feeling, especially the relation between simple feeling
and emotions. The word feeling, as it is used colloquially, generally
involves only the fully formed emotions, especially those which are
painful. Owing to this narrow and inadequate usage, every one who
speaks of the importance of feeling for art exposes himself to the
accusation of sentimentalism. But it is sufficient to point out, with
regard to such misconceptions, that even pride, joy, elation, and
all the other pleasurable states, may be quite as emotional as any
sorrow or melancholy. The poem of Leconte de Lisle, quoted above, may
therefore, in spite of all that the author himself may have objected
against such an interpretation, be considered as an expression of
feeling. And we can in the same way point out that in every one of the
most orthodox Parnassian poems some emotional state has been expressed
by the poet and conveyed to the reader. It is only by virtue of this
element that the poems of this school have attained to their high
poetical quality.
Within the department of the pictorial arts want of precision
in the use of terms has given rise to a confusion which is even
greater than that which prevails with regard to poetry. It has been
a natural result of intellectualistic views that in every painting
the subject, the situation represented, has been considered as the
most important element. As the endeavour to give an explanatory
representation of external things and events has been assumed as
essential to the artistic craving, so the essence of the artistic
work, its real content, has been looked for in the things and events
depicted. Especially when paintings are designated by a descriptive
title, spectators will be apt to turn their attention solely to those
situations or impressions which can be subsumed under the title. If
they cannot find any emotional element in the subject, they declare
the whole painting to be devoid of feeling. And for this misconception
they may even find support in the utterances of the artists; for
there are many painters who, fearing lest they might be confused with
the melodramatic sensation-mongers, have emphatically pronounced
their abhorrence of all emotional suggestion. For the unbiassed
observer, however, it is evident that the painter’s joy over a colour
or a nuance, or the melancholy which can be expressed, without
any anthropomorphic element, by a mere relation between light and
shadow, may be as emotional states as those which are embodied in the
humorous or sentimental subjects of genre-painting. Every artistic
representation, whether landscape, figure, or still-life, always
conveys to us some emotional mood of the painter. If this feeling
element has been conveyed in some pictures with greater distinctness
than in others, this fact must not prevent us from acknowledging that
it enters into every kind of art. We do not say, therefore, with
Professor van Dyke, “Art to Phidias was a matter of form; to Titian
a matter of colour; to Corot a matter of feeling;”[172] but we say,
Art to Phidias was a matter of feeling expressed by form; to Titian a
matter of feeling expressed by colour; and to Corot a matter of feeling
expressed by lights.
In the essential unity of all feeling we may thus find the point in
which all forms of art, notwithstanding their different subjects
and materials, have their unity. By laying the chief stress on the
emotional mood which in every work is conveyed from creator to
spectator, we save the trouble of dividing the works into different
classes. We need not then assume any peculiar principle of admiration
for technical skill to explain the enjoyment of Dutch painting or of
Greek sculpture. Nor need we put ourselves to the pains of deciding
whether the subject or the execution is to be considered more
important. The problem of content and form, so much debated throughout
intellectualistic æsthetic, does not exist for the emotionalistic
interpretation, which sees the essence of art in the feeling embodied,
sometimes in a great and important subject, sometimes in some
insignificant feature of nature or life. And the element of technical
perfection becomes acknowledged in its proper light when interpreted
as the indispensable condition for effectually achieving such an
embodiment.
It would be impossible, however, to explain as merely a confusion
of standpoints the fact that certain schools of art have been
considered entirely unemotional. To some extent, no doubt, the
deficient appreciation of purely pictorial art is the result of the
disastrous influence which has, especially in England, been exercised
by prevailing currents of criticism. By systematically diverting the
attention of the public from the essential element in painting, the
leaders of taste may, no doubt, accomplish great things in deadening
the art-sense of nations. But it is scarcely probable that, even if
he knew better than to look for a “story” and literary interest in a
work of pure painting, the general spectator would be able to enjoy
the _état d’âme_ which is expressed in an _intérieur_ of Ver Meer
or a landscape of Whistler. To him a painting the whole subject of
which is sunshine, and the figures of which have no mission but that
of absorbing or reflecting the light, would appear inane and cold.
“Pictorial ideas,” which may represent such a wealth of feeling for
the initiated, are thus to the artistically uneducated devoid of any
emotional content.
Though emphasising as much as possible the unity of art, we are
compelled to admit that the feelings which are conveyed in its higher
and lower forms may be essentially different. While meeting in the
“lower” art of our own and earlier times with an expression of the most
general emotions and instincts which, by the very vehemence of their
pathos, may awaken the aversion of the refined critic, we partake,
in the higher art-forms, of feelings that can be derived only from a
dispassionate contemplation of nature. This difference between higher
and lower manifestations, though especially marked in painting, can be
observed in all forms of art. We have no wish to deny the necessity
of discriminating between these “æsthetic feelings” of the higher
art-forms and the elementary affections, which form the content of the
sentimental, or, as the German philosophers would say, pathological
art. The moods of æsthetic contemplation are, on the contrary, of so
great significance that we can easily understand why they have been
made the basis of so many systems of art-philosophy. From the point of
view of the present work, which does not pretend to lay down a detailed
criterion of perfection in art, but which only aims at explaining the
most general social and psychological aspects of art-activity, it is
necessary to adhere to the element which is common to all art, higher
as well as lower, primitive or barbaric as well as civilised. And we
can only, in passing, indicate the direction in which we believe an
explanation is to be sought for the development of æsthetic attention
and refined art-sense—those great problems which could be properly
treated only in a separate work.
It has been pointed out by several authors on æsthetic, and even
emphasised to excess, that a certain independence of the struggle for
life is a condition for the appearance of a higher art. It is indeed a
current fallacy that art must be the growth of culture and prosperity.
But it is nevertheless incontestable, that the peculiar art-sense, the
artistic intuition _par excellence_, can be developed only in nations
and individuals who—be it by success in the struggle for life, by
advantageous circumstances, or simply by a natural lightheartedness
of their own—have grown superior to care for life’s necessities.
This factor, however, is only a negative condition. By itself mere
independence of wants could never have taught any one to derive an
ever deeper and stronger pleasure from a thing which stands in no
immediate relation to the primary emotions or the primary desires of
the beholder or the artist. The æsthetic education of mankind, its
growth in artistic refinement, could not have been accomplished without
the influence of more positive factors.
In looking for such factors we unavoidably come to that datum which
has been carefully excluded from the present part of our research,
namely, the concrete work of art. Whatever may have been the conditions
of their origin,—whether utilitarian or not,—poems, paintings, and
sculptures must all have occasioned exercise of that interest and
attention which is independent of the most immediate utilitarian
interests. Even if poems, for instance, were written with a purpose
primarily historical, they must have afforded both to the poet and
to his audience the opportunity to consider them as pure works of
art. Just as moral feelings have been gradually developed under the
influence of actions which may originally have been quite non-ethical,
so the refinement of æsthetic sense has been promoted by works of art,
which may themselves have served entirely non-æsthetic purposes.