to science. They are composed of notions, taken from various sciences
and disciplines, and their philosophical and scientific principles
are to be found in the latter. To propose to construct a scientific
theory of the different arts would be to wish to reduce to the single
and homogeneous what is by nature multiple and heterogeneous; to wish
to destroy the existence as a collection of what was put together
precisely to form a collection. Were we to try to give scientific
form to the manuals of the architect, the painter, or the musician,
it is clear that nothing would remain in our hands but the general
principles of Mechanics, Optics, or Acoustics. And if we were to
extract and isolate what may be scattered among them of properly
artistic observations, to make of them a scientific system, then the
sphere of the individual art would be abandoned and that of Æsthetic
entered, for Æsthetic is always general Æsthetic, or rather it cannot
be divided into general and special. This last case (that is, the
attempt to furnish a technique which ends in composing an Æsthetic)
arises when men possessing strong scientific instincts and a natural
tendency to philosophy set themselves to work to produce such theories
and technical manuals.
[Sidenote: _Criticism of æsthetic theories of particular arts_.]
But the confusion between Physics and Æsthetic has attained to its
highest degree, when æsthetic theories of particular arts are imagined,
to answer such questions as: What are the _limits_ of each art? What
can be represented with colours, and what with sounds? What with simple
monochromatic lines and what with touches of various colours? What with
tones, and what with metres and rhythms? What are the limits between
the figurative and the auditive arts, between painting and sculpture,
poetry and music?
This, translated into scientific language, is tantamount to asking:
What is the connexion between Acoustics and æsthetic expression? What
between the latter and Optics?--and the like. Now, if _there is no
passage_ from the physical fact to the æsthetic, how could there be
from the æsthetic to particular groups of physical facts, such as the
phenomena of Optics or of Acoustics?
[Sidenote: _Criticism of the classification of the arts._]
The so-called _arts_ have no æsthetic limits, because, in order to
have them, they would need to have also æsthetic existence in their
particularity; and we have demonstrated the altogether empirical
genesis of those partitions. Consequently, any attempt at an æsthetic
classification of the arts is absurd. If they be without limits,
they are not exactly determinable, and consequently cannot be
philosophically classified. All the books dealing with classifications
and systems of the arts could be burned without any loss whatever. (We
say this with the utmost respect to the writers who have expended
their labours upon them.)
The impossibility of such systematizations finds something like a proof
in the strange attempts made to carry it out. The first and most common
partition is that into arts of _hearing, sight,_ and _imagination_;
as if eyes, ears, and imagination were on the same level and could be
deduced from the same logical variable as _fundamentum divisionis._
Others have proposed the division into arts of _space_ and arts of
_time,_ arts of _rest_; and _movement_; as if the concepts of space,
time, rest and motion could determine special æsthetic forms and
possess anything in common with art as such. Finally, others have
amused themselves by dividing them into _classic_ and _romantic,_
or into _oriental, classic,_ and _romantic,_ thereby conferring the
value of scientific concepts upon simple historical denominations, or
falling into those rhetorical partitions of expressive forms, already
criticized above; or into arts _that can only be seen from one side,_
like painting, and arts _that can be seen from all sides,_ like
sculpture--and similar extravagances, which hold good neither in heaven
nor on earth.
The theory of the limits of the arts was perhaps at the time when
it was put forward a beneficial critical reaction against those who
believed in the possibility of remodelling one expression into another,
as the _Iliad_ or _Paradise Lost_ into a series of paintings, and
indeed held a poem to be of greater or lesser value according as it
could or could not be translated into pictures by a painter. But if the
rebellion were reasonable and resulted in victory, this does not mean
that the arguments employed and the systems constructed for the purpose
were sound.
[Sidenote: _Criticism of the theory of the union of the arts._]
Another theory which is a corollary to that of the arts and their
limits, falls with them; that of the _union of the arts._ Given
particular arts, distinct and limited, it was asked: Which is the most
_powerful_? Do we not obtain _more powerful_ effects by _uniting_
several? We know nothing of this: we know only that in each particular
case certain given artistic intuitions have need of definite physical
means for their reproduction and other artistic intuitions of other
means. We can obtain the effect of certain plays by simply reading
them; others need declamation and scenic display: there are some
artistic intuitions which need for their full externalization words,
song, musical instruments, colours, statuary, architecture, actors;
while others are quite complete in a slight outline made with the
pen, or a few strokes of the pencil. But it is false to suppose that
declamation and scenic effects and all the other things together that
we have mentioned are _more powerful_ than a simple reading or a simple
outline of pen or pencil; because each of those facts or groups of
facts has, so to say, a different purpose, and the power of the means
cannot be compared when the purposes are different.
[Sidenote: _Relation of the activity of externalization to utility and
morality._]
Finally, it is only from the point of view of a clear and rigorous
distinction between the true and proper æsthetic activity and the
practical activity of externalization that we can solve the complicated
and confused questions as to the relations between _art and utility_
and _art and morality._
We have demonstrated above that art as art is independent both of
utility and of morality, as also of all practical value. Without this
independence, it would not be possible to speak of an intrinsic value
of art, nor indeed to conceive an æsthetic science, which demands the
autonomy of the æsthetic fact as its necessary condition.
But it would be erroneous to maintain that this independence of the
vision or intuition or _internal expression_ of the artist should
be simply extended to the practical activity of externalization and
communication which may or may not follow the æsthetic fact. If by art
be understood the externalization of art, then utility and morality
have a perfect right to enter into it; that is to say, the right to be
master in one's own house.
Indeed we do not externalize and fix all the many expressions and
intuitions which we form in our spirit; we do not declare our every
thought in a loud voice, or write it down, or print, or draw, or
paint, or expose it to the public. We _select_ from the crowd of
intuitions which are formed or at least sketched within us; and the
selection is ruled by the criteria of the economic disposition of life
and of its moral direction. Therefore, when we have fixed an intuition,
we have still to decide whether or no we should communicate it to
others, and to whom, and when, and how; all which deliberations come
equally under the utilitarian and ethical criterion.
Thus we find the concepts of _selection,_ of the _interesting,_ of
_morality,_ of an _educational end,_ of _popularity,_ etc., to some
extent justified, although these can in no way be justified when
imposed upon art as art, and we have ourselves rejected them in pure
Æsthetic. Error always contains an element of truth. He who formulated
those erroneous æsthetic propositions in reality had his eye on
practical facts, which attach themselves externally to the æsthetic
fact and belong to economic and moral fife.
It is well to advocate yet greater freedom in making known the means
of æsthetic reproduction; we are of the same opinion, and leave
projects for legislation and for legal action against immoral art,
to hypocrites, to the ingenuous and to wasters of time. But the
proclamation of this freedom, and the fixing of its limits, how
wide soever they be, is always the task of morality. And it would
in any case be out of place to invoke that highest principle, that
_fundamentum æsthetices,_ which is the independence of art, to deduce
from it the guiltlessness of the artist who calculates like an
immoral speculator upon the unhealthy tastes of his readers in the
externalization of his imaginings, or the freedom of hawkers to sell
obscene statuettes in the public squares. This last case is the affair
of the police, as the first must be brought before the tribunal of
the moral consciousness. The æsthetic judgement on the work of art
has nothing to do with the morality of the artist as a practical man,
or with the provisions to be taken that the things of art may not be
diverted to evil ends alien to her nature, which is pure theoretic
contemplation.
XVI
TASTE AND THE REPRODUCTION OF ART
[Sidenote: _Æsthetic judgement. Its identity with æsthetic
reproduction._]
When the entire æsthetic and externalizing process has been completed,
when a beautiful expression has been produced and it has been fixed
in a definite physical material, what is meant by _judging ill To
reproduce it in oneself,_ answer the critics of art, almost with one
voice. Very good. Let us try thoroughly to understand this fact, and
with that object in view, let us represent it schematically.
The individual A is seeking the expression of an impression which
he feels or anticipates, but has not yet expressed. See him trying
various words and phrases which may give the sought-for expression,
that expression which must exist, but which he does not possess. He
tries the combination _m,_ but rejects it as unsuitable, inexpressive,
incomplete, ugly: he tries the combination _n,_ with a like result.
_He does not see at all, or does not see clearly._ The expression
still eludes him. After other vain attempts, during which he sometimes
approaches, sometimes retreats from the mark at which he aims, all of a
sudden (almost as though formed spontaneously of itself) he forms the
sought-for expression, and _lux facta est._ He enjoys for an instant
æsthetic pleasure or the pleasure of the beautiful. The ugly, with
its correlative displeasure, was the æsthetic activity which had not
succeeded in conquering the obstacle; the beautiful is the expressive
activity which now displays itself triumphant.
We have taken this example from the domain of speech, as being nearer
and more accessible, and because we all talk, though we do not all draw
or paint. Now if another individual, whom we shall call B, is to judge
that expression and decide whether it be beautiful or ugly, he _must of
necessity place himself at A's point of view,_ and go through the whole
process again, with the help of the physical sign supplied to him by A.
If A has seen clearly, then B (who has placed himself at A's point of
view) will also see clearly and will see this expression as beautiful.
If A has not seen clearly, then B also will not see clearly, and will
find the expression more or less ugly, _just as A did._
[Sidenote: _Impossibility of divergences._]
It may be observed that we have not taken into consideration two other
cases: that of A having a clear and B an obscure vision; and that of A
having an obscure and B a clear vision. Strictly speaking, these two
cases are _impossible._
Expressive activity, just because it is activity, is not caprice, but
spiritual necessity; it cannot solve a definite æsthetic problem save
in one way, which is the right way. It will be objected to this plain
statement that works which seem beautiful to the artists are afterwards
found to be ugly by the critics; while other works with which the
artists were discontented and held to be imperfect or failures are, on
the contrary, held to be beautiful and perfect by the critics. But in
this case, one of the two is wrong: either the critics or the artists,
sometimes the artists, at other times the critics. Indeed, the producer
of an expression does not always fully realize what is happening in
his soul. Haste, vanity, want of reflexion, theoretic prejudices,
make people say, and others sometimes almost believe, that works of
ours are beautiful, which, if we really looked into ourselves, we
should see to be ugly, as they are in reality. Thus poor Don Quixote,
when he had reattached to his helmet as well as he could the vizor of
cardboard--the vizor that had showed itself to possess but the feeblest
force of resistance at the first encounter,--took good care not to test
it again with a well-delivered sword-thrust, but simply declared and
maintained it to be (says the author) _por celada finisima de encaxe._
And in other cases, the same reasons, or opposite but analogous
ones, trouble the consciousness of the artist, and cause him to value
badly what he has successfully produced, or to strive to undo! and do
again for the worse what he has done well in artistic spontaneity.
An instance of this is Tasso and his passage from the _Gerusalemme
liberata_ to the _Gerusalemme conquistata._ In the same way, haste,
laziness, want of reflexion, theoretic prejudices, personal sympathies
or animosities, and other motives of a similar sort, sometimes cause
the critics to proclaim ugly what is beautiful, and beautiful what is
ugly. Were they to eliminate such disturbing elements, they would feel
the work of art as it really is, and would not leave it to posterity,
that more diligent and more dispassionate judge, to award the palm, or
to do that justice which they have refused.
[Sidenote: _Identity of taste and genius._]
It is clear from the preceding theorem that the activity of judgement
which criticizes and recognizes the beautiful is identical with
what produces it. The only difference lies in the diversity of
circumstances, since in the one case it is a question of æsthetic
production, in the other of reproduction. The activity which judges is
called _taste_; the productive activity is called _genius_: genius and
taste are therefore substantially _identical._
The common remark that the critic should possess something of the
genius of the artist and that the artist should possess taste, gives
a glimpse of this identity; or the remark that there exists an active
(productive) and a passive (reproductive) taste. But it is also
negated in other equally common remarks, as when people speak of taste
without genius, or of genius without taste. These last observations
are meaningless, unless they allude to quantitative or psychological
differences, those being called geniuses without taste who produce
works of art, inspired in their chief parts and neglected or defective
in their secondary parts, and men of taste without genius, those
who, while they succeed in obtaining certain isolated or secondary
merits, do not possess sufficient power for a great artistic
synthesis. Analogous explanations can easily be given of other similar
expressions. But to posit a substantial difference between genius and
taste, between artistic production and reproduction, would render both
communication and judgement alike inconceivable. How could we judge
what remained external to us? How could that which is produced by a
given activity be judged by a _different_ activity? The critic may
be a small genius, the artist a great one; the former may have the
strength of ten, the latter of a hundred; the former, in order to reach
a certain height, will have need of the assistance of the other; but
the nature of both must remain the same. To judge Dante, we must raise
ourselves to his level: let it be well understood that empirically we
are not Dante, nor Dante we; but in that moment of contemplation and
judgement, our spirit is one with that of the poet, and in that moment
we and he are one thing. In this identity alone resides the possibility
that our little souls can echo great souls, and grow great with them in
the universality of the spirit.
[Sidenote: _Analogy with other activities._]
Let us remark in passing that what has been said of the æsthetic
judgement holds good equally for every other activity and for every
other judgement; and that scientific, economic, and ethical criticism
is effected in a like manner. To limit ourselves to this last, only if
we place ourselves ideally in the same conditions in which he found
himself who took a given resolution, can we form a judgement as to
whether his decision were moral or immoral. An action would otherwise
remain incomprehensible and therefore impossible to judge. A homicide
may be a rascal or a hero: if this be, within limits, indifferent
as regards the defence of society, which condemns both to the same
punishment, it is not indifferent to one who wishes to distinguish and
judge from the moral point of view, and we therefore cannot dispense
with reconstructing the individual psychology of the homicide, in order
to determine the true nature of his deed, not merely in its legal,
but also in its moral aspect. In Ethics, a moral taste or tact is
sometimes mentioned, answering to what is generally called the moral
consciousness, that is to say, to the activity of the good will itself.
[Sidenote: _Criticism of æsthetic absolutism (intellectualism) and
relativism._]
The explanation above given of æsthetic judgement or reproduction both
agrees with and condemns the absolutists and relativists, those who
affirm and those who deny the absoluteness of taste.
In affirming that the beautiful can be judged, the absolutists are
right; but the theory on which they found their affirmation is not
tenable, because they conceive of the beautiful, that is, æsthetic
value, as something placed outside the æsthetic activity, as a concept
or a model which an artist realizes in his work, and of which the
critic avails himself afterwards in judging the work itself. These
concepts and models have no existence in art, for when proclaiming
that every art can be judged only in itself and that it has its model
in itself, they implicitly denied the existence of objective models of
beauty, whether these are intellectual concepts, or ideas suspended in
a metaphysical heaven.
In proclaiming this, their-adversaries, the relativists, are perfectly
right, and effect an advance upon them. However, the initial
rationality of their thesis in its turn becomes converted into a false
theory. Repeating the ancient adage that there is no accounting for
tastes, they believe that æsthetic expression is of the same nature as
the pleasant and the unpleasant, which every one feels in his own way,
and about which there is no dispute. But we know that the pleasant and
the unpleasant are utilitarian, practical facts. Thus the relativists
deny the specific character of the æsthetic fact, and again confound
expression with impression, the theoretic with the practical.
The true solution lies in rejecting alike relativism or psychologism
and false absolutism; and in recognizing that the criterion of taste is
absolute, but absolute in a different way from that of the intellect,
which expresses itself in ratiocination. The criterion of taste is
absolute, with the intuitive absoluteness of the imagination. Thus any
act of expressive activity, which is so really, is to be recognized
as beautiful, and any fact as ugly in which expressive activity and
passivity are found engaged with one another in an unfinished struggle.
[Sidenote: _Criticism of relative relativism._]
Between absolutists and relativists is a third class, which may be
called that of the relative relativists. These affirm the existence of
absolute values in other fields, such as Logic and Ethic, but deny it
in the field of Æsthetic. To dispute about science or morals seems to
them to be rational and justifiable, because science depends upon the
universal, common to all men, and morality upon duty, which is also
a law of human nature; but how dispute about art, which depends upon
imagination? Not only, however, is the imaginative activity universal
and no less inherent in human nature than the logical concept and
practical duty; but there is a preliminary objection to the thesis in
question. If the absoluteness of the imagination be denied, we must
also deny intellectual or conceptual truth and implicitly morality.
Does not morality presuppose logical distinctions? How could these be
known, otherwise than in expressions and words, that is to say, in
imaginative form? If the absoluteness of the imagination were removed,
the life of the spirit would tremble to its foundations. One individual
would no longer understand another, nor indeed his own self of a moment
before, which is already another individual considered a moment after.
[Sidenote: _Objection founded on the variation of the stimulus and of
psychic disposition._]
Nevertheless, variety of judgements is an indubitable fact. Men
disagree as to logical, ethical, and economical valuations; and they
disagree equally or even more as to the æsthetic. If certain reasons
recorded by us above, such as haste, prejudices, passions, etc., may
lessen the importance of this disagreement, they do not on that account
annul it. When speaking of the stimuli of reproduction we have added a
caution, for we said that reproduction takes place, _if all the other
conditions remain equal._ Do they remain equal? Does the hypothesis
correspond to reality?
It would appear not. In order to reproduce an impression several times
by means of a suitable physical stimulus it is necessary that this
stimulus be not changed, and that the organism remain in the same
psychical conditions as those in which was experienced the impression
that it is desired to reproduce. Now it is a fact that the physical
stimulus is continually changing, and in like manner the psychological
conditions.
Oil-paintings grow dark, frescoes fade, statues lose noses, hands
and legs, architecture becomes totally or partially a ruin, the
tradition of the execution of a piece of music is lost, the text of a
poem is corrupted by bad copyists or bad printing. These are obvious
instances of I the changes which daily occur in objects or physical
stimuli. As regards psychological conditions, we will not dwell upon
the cases of deafness or blindness, that is to say, upon the loss of
entire orders of psychical impressions; these cases are secondary and
of less importance compared with the fundamental, daily, inevitable
and perpetual changes of the society around us and of the internal
conditions of our individual life. The phonetic manifestations or
words and verses of Dante's _Commedia_ must produce a very different
impression on an Italian citizen engaged in the politics of the
third Rome, from that experienced by a well-informed and intimate
contemporary of the poet. The Madonna of Cimabue is still in the Church
of Santa Maria Novella; but does she speak to the visitor of to-day as
to the Florentines of the thirteenth century? Even though she were not
also darkened by time, must we not suppose that the impression which
she now produces is altogether different from that of former times? And
even in the case of the same individual poet, will a poem composed by
him in youth make the same impression upon him when he re-reads it in
his old age, with psychic conditions altogether changed?
[Sidenote: _Criticism of the distinction of signs into natural and
conventional._]