No More Learning

One can see here--last but not least because of a long tradition in modern art of attempting to subvert the distinction axtlkitsch or of presenting forms that are directly and generally intelligible--how strongly the possible rebels against the limits of the admissible, and tends to succeed. Self-description erects a boundary from within a boundary, a "frame" within the "frame" of the system; but precisely because of this difference, self-descriptions re- main subject to irritation and become dynamic from within.
2 5 0 Self-Description
II
Already in antiquity, the interpretive description of art had become problematic. One observed that art extends reality in ways that cannot be justified by its utility, by religion, or by a mythical familiarity with origins. There is (alphabetic) writing, a production of texts in which the redou- bling of reality surfaces as a problem, simply because one is dealing with writing. The meaning of poetry becomes problematic. The solutions pro- posed, however, made no claims for an autonomy of art, nor did they maintain that art has a value of its own. They assumed instead that the real world, as nature, does not always appear in its most perfect form. One needed to remember (Platonically) the original Ideas that define the es- sence of things, or (following Aristode) to observe nature empirically in its perfect forms rather than in its corrupted forms. Despite differences be- tween these philosophical concepts, the meaning of art resided in a cor-
rective imitation that directs the awareness of the observer toward the es- sential and purges it of imperfections and defects. One could almost speak of an ornamented support and foregrounding of the essence of things, of nature, of the world. Be this as it may, art did not find its meaning in it- selfas a realization of its own value.
This situation did not change significantly during the Middle Ages, even though entirely different conditions prevailed. Dionysius (Pseudo- Dionysius Areopagites), who strongly influenced the medieval conception of art, continued to propagate the ideas of late antiquity. A passive notion of cognition prevailed, despite frequent interruptions of this tradition. The world was considered to be a beautifully ordered cosmos, in which the most diverse things distinguished themselves and were fused, despite their diversity, into a harmony that shone even through ugliness, failure, and incompletion. Knowledge did not construct distinctions; it received distinctions. Against this background, the distinctions that determined
11
the conception of art were quite different from the ones we use today. They were determined above all by the guiding distinction between the visible and the invisible and by efforts, inspired by this distinction, to me- diate symbolically between the two. Since beauty was considered a prop- erty of being or even of matter, all symbolic mediations partook of being; they were made of the same stuff as the Creation ratlier than signifying something radically other.
This is why a concept such as imitation (which played no central role at
Self-Description 2 5 1
all) could move about through creation naively and without bias. This sit-
uation did not change until the beginning of early modernity, although a
notion of imitation persisted for quite some time. An independent motive
for this change might have been the discovery of antique models, by
means of which art began to refer to itself. Without referring to the living
present and to the infinite distance of God--that is, without religious
symbolization--one could now presume thatperfection had earlier existed
in this world. This notion offered the prospect of recapturing perfection
solely through artistic means. There was no need to criticize religion; it
sufficed to improve one's own work. The contrast antiquilmoderni served
this distinction} This transition shifted the focus onto the individual'that brought it about, while stimulating a criticaldiscussion that evaluated this transition, initially on the basis of Aristotle's PoeticsP In retrospect, we can appreciate these trends as first attempts toward a self-description of the art system.
The discussion proceeded initially from premises inherited from antiq- uity, such as the notion mimesislimitatio. One naively assumed that the ob- ject of imitation was already an image that could be perceived. At the same time, this concept signaled a distance from the artistic accomplishments of the original images. Gradually, however, and for different reasons, the no- tion of constant essential forms became problematic to the extent that the social authority responsible for their interpretation began to crumble. New forms of differentiation undermined former reference points--especially
14
as the guiding distinction in this regard, and emphasis could vary within 2
stratification, but also the differentiation between city and country.
sure, these forms of life continued to persist, and small portions of the pop- ulation were marked as aristocratic or as living in cities. But for the evolu- tion of the social system, new system formations became more vital: the le- gal system, the territorial state, the monetary economy, a religion that retreated to orthodoxy, and, last but not least, a science oriented toward provocative experiments and an artificial mathematics. The incipient func- tional differentiation of the social system created, as if from the outside, a new situation to which the self-description of the art system must respond from a position of autonomy.
Correlation between the functional differentiation of the social system, the operative closure and autopoietic autonomy of functional systems that follow from it, and the resulting need for reflection can be traced and con- cretized at various levels. A strong argument for such a correlation can be
To be
2 5 2 Self-Description
made by showing that similar internal reflection theories developed not
only in the art system but in other functional systems as well, beginning in
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and culminating in the eighteenth
century. Whereas differentiation has always existed at the level of types of
interaction or roles, only the differentiation of functional systems enforced
the renunciation of an externally determined identity--of a cosmological-
religious nature, for example. It thus created a vacuum that could be filled
only by self-descriptions of the respective systems. This qualified self-
description as a phenomenon bound to a particular form of social differ-
15
entiation,
themselves. Yet we are not dealing simply with an arbitrary sequence of "discourses. " We refrain at this point from returning to these general
16
social-theoretical arguments.
By 1600 at the latest, one can state explicitly that a special kind of
knowledge was required in the realms of painting, sculpture, and architec-
ture--a knowledge that philosophers and theologians were unable to sup-
17
ply. The learned scholastic terminology now seemed useless and gratu-
18
itous. The arslscientiadebate,
Ages, subsided; the reflection of artistic activity now supplied enough ma- terial of its own. One resorted to treatises that contained working instruc- tions for artists. For this type of knowledge one still claimed truth. Delight in formulas, especially deliberately obscure ones, did not develop until the seventeenth century. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the litera- ture about art was not concerned with an overarching system of art, but fo- cused instead on painting and poetry. Apart from technical instructions, it was concerned with evaluating stylistic decisions (for example, by taking a position for or against clearly isolated figures in the critical discussion of mannerism). In this form, the literature on art influenced artistic produc- tion in ways that were difficult to evaluate without reference to the system of patronage supplied by the church and the courts; in other words, the in-
19 fluence of the literature on art manifested itself only in its indirect effects.
Another consideration is the question of which other specialized func- tional systems gain significance for the differentiation and self-description of a particular functional system--whether a system relies on the possibil- ity for external support or requires distinction and separation. Rudolf Stichweh has investigated in great historical detail how the university sys- tem (the ultimate level of the educational system) gained independence by giving up its reliance on religion and orienting itself toward the early
rather than a matter of perfecting one's knowledge of things
which had preoccupied the late Middle
Self-Description
^53
modern territorial state.
ering the next impetus toward independence, which became possible in the nineteenth century when the educational system focused its primary
21
20
This analysis is easily supplemented by consid-
orientation on science (on the "unity of research and teaching"). sumably, art gained a similar degree of freedom when it gave up religious
22
and eventually on the emerg- Several systems then profited from the same operations and their results, but each system interpreted these operations differently and in the context of different recursive networks, that is, without ad-
24 versely affecting the operative closure of other participating systems. The
effects of symbiotic relationships of this sort on the self-descriptions of systems were mostly negative and restrictive, however. One doesn't bite the hand of one's host, at least not during dinner. This is why the distance that art eventually established from its sponsors did not manifest itself in an offensive way; instead, art emphasized its own accomplishments and its independence with regard to the invention of forms while respecting the sponsor's thematic interests. This situation did not necessarily give rise to a new theory of art or to a self-description of the art system that would be directed explicitly against the environment.
We therefore suspect that a different kind of system-to-system relation- ship affected the self-description of art much more strongly--indeed, in- augurated this description in the true sense of the word--at a time when the incompatibility of functional systems became apparent. In the early fif- teenth century, a new humanistic and scientific understanding of art (based on geometry, perspective, anatomy) freed itself from church supervision. Artists began to rely on their own reason and on their personal access to the
25
world. They claimed a social status that superseded mere craftsmanship. This process of separation initially required that art and the knowledge of nature and human affairs in the widest sense form a unity. In the sixteenth century, knowledge was still as interested in technology and in the expla- nation of ordinary experience as it was in phenomena that were strange, miraculous, unusual, or astonishing. The former were useful for life, the latter satisfied curiosity and the need for entertainment. Both came to- gether in the double sense of Latin recreatio. As late as the sixteenth cen- tury, one can still insist that an order striving toward unity was to be val-
26
ued positively and mere multitudo negatively. In the tendency toward
unity, everything ultimately leads to God. The representations of art, too, partook of this cosmological evaluation, for which one furnished examples
patronage and began to rely on the courts
ing art market.
23
Pre-
Self-Description
*54
from the world of objects, from the animal kingdom, and from the realm
of human life. Beauty was a kind of reflex of an order that strove toward
27
unity, it expressed a preference for unity by order itself. By no means was
beauty a criterion that helped differentiate a distinct world of art. But pre- cisely this cultural climate, this insistence on unity, indicated a divergence of heterogeneous tendencies and interests. This was due primarily to dra- matic changes and to a wealth of innovations in areas one would classify today as the beginnings of modern science. Cosmology altered its notion of the unity of the world, especially in Italy, abandoning the assumption of an effective unifying principle (read off the paradigm of the soul) and adopting the notion of a dynamic processing of differences for which laws (possibly mathematical ones) must be discovered--all of which boiled
28 down to an empirically and mathematically oriented type of research.
As early as the sixteenth century, the interpretation of art ran into diffi- culties because it could not keep up with trends that would, in the seven- teenth century, aim to consolidate an empirico-rational, experimentally and
29
mathematically oriented system of science. At that time, the need to dis-
tance oneself from a truth-oriented science constituted the front on which the early modern understanding of art--primarily of poetry--crystallized. Contemporaries must have been impressed by this move, since previous centuries--the epoch of Alberti, Diirer, Leonardo da Vinci, Palladio, and Cardano--had emphasized the unity of scientific knowledge and an art
30
that strove for beauty. Among the factors that inspired this emphasis was
the idea of an ars magna et ultima, which could be traced to Ramon Lull and prevailed until the late sixteenth century. Around the mid-sixteenth century, art, including painting, sculpture, and architecture, was still a topic
31
in scientific treatises by famous scholars;
stricted to factual knowledge did not take hold until the seventeenth cen- tury. Truth was still bound by expectations of a proper interpretation of the world, which included not only explanations of fact but also fictive repre- sentations and, of course, normative validity claims. Only against this com- mon background does the dispute about the truth claims of poetry become intelligible. This dispute staked out the boundaries that would eventually separate demonstrable knowledge from beautiful appearance.
For a long time, poetry continued to exploit a numeric mysticism that
32
suggested harmony.
size numerical relationships through meter and direct naming. Around the mid-sixteenth century, painting began to resist the scientism of the
a rigorous notion of truth re-
It could do so without effort, since it could empha-
Self-Description
*55
33
Florentine doctrine of proportion,
nature. Along with the emphasis on proportion, this doctrine declared re- dundancy to be the essence of things and reduced variety to an accidental property. One could almost speak of a protest by painters against an atti- tude that did not differentiate between painting and architecture. Their concerns focused on a more appropriate access to the unique possibilities of painting. Painting was more than mere imitation. "La Pittura e propria
34
poesia, cioe invenzione, la qual fa apparere quello que non e. " Eventu-
ally, architectural doctrine, too, turned away from the notion of mystical-
mathematical harmony and toward more practical purposes. In the wake
of Alberti, the doctrine of mathematical proportion--which imitated the
hidden harmony of the universe in the form of numerical relationships--
3i culminated in Luca Pacioli's treatise De divina proportione (1577). But
Pacioli's treatise offers almost no practical directives for applying this doc- trine in the construction of buildings. Carlo Borromeo's treatise on the construction of cathedrals (1577) rejects the Platonic, geometrical archi- tecture of centralized construction in favor of a cross construction, which is better suited for liturgical purposes anyway. In addition, one empha- sized practical interests. In writing about cloisters, for example, Borromeo elaborates on portions of buildings that existed merely for utility: the
36
lodgings of servants, lavatories, latrines, and prisons.
Counter Reformation, religion retreated into itself. Another point of de- parture for the separation of art was the debate, inherited from antiquity, about the meaning of poetry, which was provoked by the dissociation of
37
poetry from religio-cultic and gende contexts.
provided a motive for observing the activity of poets and singers "philo- sophically," that is, in view of their truth content. The effect was twofold: on the one hand, poets complained about being treated poorly by society and bemoaned the lack of recognition of their merits (reading made them
38
aware of tlieir situation).
ciety as useless, if not harmful, in view of the assumption that it was now possible to publish and read up on the truth. The controversies about the proper form of (noble) education raised the issue of whether fictions or
39
which treated art solely as a mirror of
On the other hand, they were criticized by so-
stories, even if they were true, could contribute to education.
simism of Christianity and the rediscovery of classical skepticism provided the sixteenth century with a new basis for such doubts. Especially in Eng- land, one began to emphasize practical utility, and the polemic against po- etry and the theater could appeal in an ambiguous way either to the sal-
In the wake of the
The possibility of writing
The pes-
2 j 6 Self-Description
vation of the soul or to a secular prosperity; in both cases, poetry and per- formance could be judged to be only a distraction from what really mat-
40
tered.
also in circles that oriented themselves economically toward the market, there was no place for a function of fictionality.
Moreover, the need to distinguish science from art became more urgent to the extent that art, or the artes in general, became incapable of think- ing of themselves in terms of a reworking or a recapitulation of classical artistic skill. The unique accomplishments of painting and sculpture--the kind considered modern at the time--began to stand out in comparison with an antiquity that had become increasingly familiar and saturated with interpretation. Mannerism turned deviation into a program. One used one's knowledge of perspective for the deformation of forms. This knowledge, as die saying goes, was applied in paradoxical ways, raising the issue of criteria. As usual, however, the issue of criteria remained sec- ondary in relation to the question of what could function as a binary code whose values could be assigned according to those criteria. At first, tradi- tional models continued to determine the discussion and forced the artis- tic striving for independence into an unfavorable position. Knowledge re- mained focused on truth versus untruth, and for ontology or, later, the purposes of actions, the issue was being versus appearance. As long as this was so, art was forced to position itself on the side of untruth and appear- ance and to affirm this position, if it was to distinguish itself from a knowledge that conformed to reality. Art had to assert itself against the complex alliance of religion, knowledge, and utility.
Thanks to a number of chance events that affected the tradition, this
turned out to be easier than it seemed at first. In the discussion about the
relationship between (and the pedagogical value of) historical knowledge
(historia) and poetry (poesia), history was at a disadvantage because it was
41
considered to be a collection of real but accidental events.
the events might have happened exactly as they were told, this process was
42
obscured by a reality that remained erratic.
could represent ideal forms--forms that did not exist in the ordinary sense, but defined the goal toward which being strives nonetheless. His- tory only narrated facts that depended on chance, whereas poetry "reduces
43
the thing to the species and to universal nature. "
torical details but also fictional supplements were considered accidental; only the latter, however, were needed to represent the essential. The doc-
In the worldview of the Puritans and other religious groups, but
Poetry, on the other hand,
Even though
In poetry, not only his-
Self-Description
257
trine of vanitas mundi could serve as a means of religious justification, which allowed art to distance itself from worldly excess and from preten- tious truth claims, even in situations in which art accentuated its own skill (as, for example, in Holbein). Such an attitude could also be symbolized in the form of paradox (for example, by the presence of a skull).
By contrast, religion, which claimed to represent the real world, blamed poetry for taking things too lightly. Moreover, the ancient doctrine still held that only a fraction of knowledge was given in the form of absolutely certain truths (episteme), whereas in many other respects, one had to be content with doctrinal tradition {doxa) or with efforts to represent the probable or a "semblance of truth" (verisimilitudo), which might also be represented in art, especially in art. The ambivalence of "verisimilitude" glossed over the fact that the distinction between truth and falsity did not matter the least in art, nor was there a need to admit that this was so. Within a clerical context, probabilistic thinking provided an indispensable assistance to knowledge. (Of course, a mathematically founded theory of
probability was not yet available; besides, art had no reason to adopt such a theory. ) Poetry began to search for its own synthesis of truth and falsity by distancing itself from the specific truth code of science. "The fable . . . is not only false but false and true together; false as to history, true as to its
44
semblance to the truth. "
pretation of Aristotle's text, which left the relationship between truth and astonishment in suspense.
*Tn the context of searching for a code and for artistic criteria, one can easily maintain that art establishes a kingdom of its own in the realm of an artificial-artistic semblance, which seeks to compete neither with the abstractions of mathematics nor with the pedantry of factual knowledge, but rather develops internal criteria of success for its own representations and ought to be allowed to search for ways of affecting its audience. Art, in particular poetry, conceals political allusions behind the notion that art
45
is an activity of poiesis which "makes" its own works.
appeal to its own, in the meantime well-established reputation and point to works that are generally considered significant.
When insisting on the rights of beautiful appearance, one means more
46
than just deception.
apart a simple, bivalent ontology and to reinvent the place of mankind within the cosmos. This requires more complex distinctions, that is, dis- tinctions of distinctions. In the theater, this double framing is fairly
Theory could present this notion as an inter-
The point is not simply to deceive, but to break
In so doing, art can
z58 Self-Description
straightforward: the spectator is supposed to know that what he perceives on stage is "only" a play, and that within this play, deception--of the self and others--simulates worlds within a simulated world. In narratives, this difference is less evident. Narratives might be presented as Active from the start and subsequently repeat the fiction within the fiction, as in Don Quixote. Or the author might attempt to cancel the distinction between fact and fiction, for example, by feigning (or not feigning? ) the presenta-
47
tion of "discovered letters. "
An awareness of frames, as well as a sense for their confusion, spread in
a variety of ways. This situation enforced the tendency to think of truth
and beauty as opposites against a background of social conduct (social sit-
uation). Truth concerned being in itself; beauty concerned being for oth-
ers. To be sure, poetry needed to be defended to the extent that it forsook
truth and focused on beautiful appearance. Poetry no longer presented a
deficient mirror of reality, nor was it concerned with improving that mir-
ror; on the contrary, what mattered was an appearance that was inten-
tional. When science--in the wake of Copernicus and Galileo, assisted by
the telescope and mathematics--set out to explore realities that seemed at
first implausible, rhetoric, in alliance with poetry, conceived its task to be
finding lasting forms for astonishment and wit. Starting witJh Vasari, one
48
spoke of arti del disegno. In so doing, one elevated oneself beyond mere
craftsmanship while being aware of one's historically secure ground. Bal- tasar Gracian succeeded in formulating this notion as a principle and com-
49
bining it with wisdom and politics.
accomplished little unless it was concealed.
were self-confidence, the ability to assert himself, and social success. Every- thing occurred in a sphere of self-produced appearance, anyhow. The question of what the world was really like remained unanswered. This was why language, in order to be adequate, had to be obscure, ambiguous, playful, paradoxical, and, in this sense, witty. The genuine achievement of
51
such a language was "to speak where one is not. "
notion of Being as being for others (as opposed to Being in and for itself), one immediately recognizes that die enforcement of beautiful appearance hangs together with a subjective individualism that emerges at the same time and provides an opportunity to undermine all previously accepted distinctions. Instead of relying on such distinctions, one now had to con- struct and defend positions.
Art had greater obligations to social life, and it was much closer to life
In a world without certainties, truth
50
The main issues for Gracian
If one adopts Hegel's
Self-Description 259
in an effective, technical sense than a plain and unadorned knowledge. Art alone was formulated in a manner adequate to the world's social intri- cacies. It did not function as a sign for something other, but instead im- pressed itself upon its audience. The technological potential of science had not yet come into view; it remained outside the social interests of the (Je- suit) order or die Spanish political system. Yet subjectivity developed early in Spain, where it confronted an almost cosmological alliance between
52
politics and religion.
have been plausible as a formula for compromise. To it, Gracian adds a shift in emphasis from truth to effect and thus from being to time.
Filling out the negative side of the truth code--untruth and appear-
ance--highlighted both the skills and the difficulties involved in a task
that is not exactly favored by Being. Unlike in the Middle Ages, one now
demanded that the conception of the artwork be the artist's own. For-
merly, works of art were considered works of a client who made use of
skilled labor to carry out his plans. Now the artist was considered the au-
thor of the work--at first perhaps only for masterworks, but eventually for
any work that claimed to be art, whereas clients and observers were ex-
pected to contribute only expertise and critical judgment. Such demands
were expressed in the notion of concetto. In addition, intense efforts and
as a quality of superb artists.
54
The thoroughgoing duality of description
In such circumstances, beautiful appearance might
wit (Witz) were necessary to produce art. In the Italian literature dominant 53
at the time, one spoke of acutezza. The British were praising "cunning"
{acutezzalconcetto, agudezalconcepto, cunninglconceit) was striking. It im-
plied that life and erudition must coincide. A skill of this sort rendered it-
self--that is, the illusion--transparent as a deliberately created surprise.
The concetto underlying the illusion was displayed along with it; indeed,
the concetto was what ultimately mattered. This was how John Donne
55
dragged paradox out into the open--a paradox hidden
behind abstract
concepts of species and genre in the controversy between realists and nom-
inalists, in Ramism, and in a Platonism that was once again perceived as
modern. But Donne did not expect anyone to believe in such decep-
56
tions.
gumentative mode of theologians and philosophers. Unlike in traditional rhetoric, to which early modern art owed its awareness of tricks, the recip- ient of the message was not supposed to be deluded or remain in the dark. Rather, he was exposed to a shock, which rendered the deception trans- parent and elicited admiration (admiratio). The meaning of admiratio
The point was to reveal the deception, which now included the ar-
2 6 0 Self-Description
shifted toward irritation. In order to accomplish this goal, art had to know its audience, which soon gave rise to a discussion about whether art was
57
meant for the common people or for connoisseurs.
Did the concetto draw its force of conviction from erudition? The hu-
manism of the Renaissance tempts us to believe all too quickly that this was so. Several authors expressed themselves in ways that support this claim--and they seemed to be aware that expertise and a knowledge of lit-
58
erature did not depend on social origin.
"learned plagiary" (with reference to Ben Jonson).
the idiosyncrasies of "witty" allusions did not justify sacrificing redundan- cies embedded in the foundations of knowledge shared by all of Europe. Moreover, we must keep in mind that art depended on patronage and, hence, on contracts. Thematic models were frequently tied to specific ex- pectations, especially in the iconography of the visual arts. If the artist pos- sessed the necessary education (which became possible only in the wake of print), he could balance thematic faithfulness and artistic freedom in ways
60
that avoided potential conflicts with the client.
sixteenth century, these ties began to crumble, a trend that seemed to be supported by the fact that the artist took responsibility for his own con- cetto, turning it into a flash of wit. Against every stylistic rule of traditional rhetoric, one "conceived" the improbability of forms, the lack of resem- blance, exaggeration, artificiality, skill, and the confusion of signs.
More- over, the notion ofconcetto implied that the flash of wit had no effect of its own accord. "Ogni concetto," writes Pellegrini, "e sempre necessariamente
61
sommistrato dall occorso di qualqu'altro concetto. "
supported and encouraged one another. They pointed to one another within a recursive network of implicit and explicit references, which served as a precondition for the observation of astonishing and striking appear- ances. And where an early humanistic erudition still claimed truth to be the entire realm of its awareness, one looked for another kind of fascina- tion within the mutually supporting network of concetti, namely, for an in- tellectual force that convinced by deviating from the familiar.
The notion of concettismo renders imitation {mimesis) problematic, with- out overcoming it right away. A contemporary text, written entirely in the
1
spirit of concettismo? states that art supplements nature with a second be-
ing, elevating it to a state of supremely beautiful perfection. But how could one know such perfection if not through nature? Consequently, the con- cept of nature dissolved into a multiplicity of meanings--depending on
Dryden still spoke positively of
59
However, tolerating
In the second half of the
Concetti mutually
Self-Description 261
63
what one wanted to get out of it.
tory, which must be taken into account if one wants to understand why imitation prevailed for so long. The beginnings of the concept in Plato suggest an act of liberation--a liberation from the idea that the invisible re- sides within the (cult) image. The notion of "residing in," which always carries religious connotations, was replaced by a notion of relation, which was subsequently burdened with the entire legacy of religion, and which
64
remained in need of interpretation.
the "simulacra" of the old world, and this is what earned the support of a theologically inspired religion--until it was taken entirely for granted and there was no further need to insist on it.
This tradition still assumed that things themselves preserved a memory of their origin and communicated this meaning to those who perceived them. But this notion conflicted with another assumption running paral- lel to the former, namely, that the artist himself was the origin of the art- work and that works of art preserved the memory of the artist. In Plato, this contradiction results in a devaluation of art. With the revalorization of art in early modernity, this solution became unacceptable. The demand that artworks had to be original shifted the emphasis entirely onto the (in- explicable) genius of the artist. A process of erosion began to affect all for- mer ties and eventually called into question the notion of imitation itself.
If we base this conceptual history on an analytical scheme that tran- scends it, then we realize that the concept of imitatio combines two com- ponents: one of resemblance (to what? ), and one of repeatability (redun- dancy). In one way or another, a sufficient degree of recognizability must be secured; the concept of imitatio accomplishes this by referring to an al- ready existing knowledge of the world. The assumption is that redun- dancy can be guaranteed by resemblance. After all, it is possible that, within this combination, the accent shifts away from resemblance and to- ward redundancy, especially when the reference of the demand for resem- blance becomes increasingly unclear--resemblance can refer to clerical tradition, to reality or to the ideas behind reality, to Being or to appear- ance, to what exists or to what does not exist but could exist or ought to exist. So long as repeatability is guaranteed, one can grant more room to nonresemblance. What matters, eventually, is nothing more than the re- peatability of observation, and this is guaranteed only by the manner in which the artwork is executed.
Long before the final break with imitation, one began to focus on artis-
The notion of imitatio has a long his-
Imitatio amounts to a liberation from
z6z Self-Description
tic skill. To the extent one becomes concerned with know-how (in the widest technical sense), the notion of art as imitatio loses its power to con- vince. With music, one was forced to relinquish the idea of cosmic imita- tion for the simple reason that the idea of the cosmos as a harmony of pro-
65
portions and numerical relationships began to wane.
for example, imitation in poetry could still mean imitation of the divine in-
66
spiration of what could or ought to be.
ations from the familiar became possible; they were sought out, legiti- mized, and made conspicuous. According to Aristotle, poetry must also
67
Poetry compares itself to painting and vice versa. The treatises on imitation typically contain contradictory state-
69
ments.
only a more demanding kind of imitation that strives to create an illusion
stimulate astonishment.
68
Imitation is too easy and therefore no longer deserves admiration;
can assert itself as art.
70 71 Instead of imitatio one emphasized inventio,
which no longer meant discovery but invention. By imitation, art elicits as-
tonishment and calls attention to itself. (Familiar and recognizable objects
appear in an unfamiliar context. ) Once art is fully differentiated, getting at-
tention becomes its own affair. O n the basis of the old doctrine of the art of
72
painting,
sort, by which the artist can refer more precisely to his artistic means. "At- tracting the spectators" with a successful imitation is henceforth only the
73
gain, the reward of the effort. The same venerable doctrine requires that
the means by which art accomplishes its effects remain hidden, that knowl- edge and know-how (and accordingly the roles of artist and observer) remain
7A
strictly separate. The function of imitation is subsequendy reduced to dif-
ferentiating between the observational modes of the artist and his audience;
but this step does not interfere with the prevailing notion that imitation is
75
the essence of art and the form of its truth --as if the essence of art were
to mediate between two different modes of observation, one pertaining to the artist, and the other to the audience.
What most restricted the meaning of imitation--apart from the neces- sity of displaying skill in order to receive attention--was perhaps the dis-
76
tinction between originality and imitation.
the meaning of imitation from its cosmic frame of reference and inte- grated it into a distinction that was valid only in art. The fate of imitation as a counterconcept to originality was sealed, despite initial attempts to salvage the old cosmological reference by distinguishing between imita- tion of nature and imitation of art.
Roger de Piles mentions evaluative criteria of a quite different
To Sir Philip Sidney,
At the same time, deliberate devi-
This distinction decoupled
Self-Description 263
Sacrificing imitation as the meaning and destiny of art must have been difficult, if not impossible, so long as cosmology still assumed an origin or creation of the world that coexisted with the present in the form of a de- scent. Creation accounted for the possibility of art and, at the same time,
77
art was bound to the creation.
had to be understood as an imitation of originally fixed determinations,
78
for example, as a Platonic recollection of ideas.
sister of knowledge, so to speak, a sister who was brought up more liber- ally. Both knowledge and art are "pleasing" to mankind because they re- present the origin and the essence of things. Kant, in his Third Critique, no longer thinks of this correlation as an imitation of products but in
79
terms of a parallel action, an analogy. Kant's contemporaries substituted
80
die subjective endowment of meaning for imitation.
were decoupled, even though it was difficult to think of the subject with- out the correlate of a world. One no longer assumed a common origin of subject and world, and yet the origin of artistic skill was still understood to be nature, as genius.
In romanticism, for die first time accounts of the function of art were
81
fully separated from the idea of imitation.
tion was retained. It reemerged repeatedly in the nineteenth century, but it sounded hollow once it was reduced to the function of emphasizing die fact that art operates in the world in a nonarbitrary manner. Imitation was now primarily understood as selection, and selection was understood to be an intensification, which permitted art to "imitate" the opposite of
82
what it found in the real world.
The competition with truth became ob-
Under these conditions, knowledge, too,
solete, and the expulsion of artists from the republic was no longer worth
any serious discussion. One spoke of a culture state [Kulturstaat]. Only
83
In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the form in which art dis- played its accomplishments was called disegno. Disegno replaced the scho-
84
lastic notion of intentio, substituting for the immanent teleology of action
a concept that clearly distinguished between internal conception and ex- ternal execution while subsuming both aspects under the same concept.
Disegno, or "drawing" as it was later called, is one of the most interest- ing notions of the tradition, because it cannot be grasped in ontological terms. According to Leonardo da Vinci, the boundary of an object, just
85
traces remained of the old concern about the exclusive rights of poetry. The problem now was how to fill the empty space of its autonomy.
like the boundary between past and future, amounts to nothing.
The
Poetry was the younger
Art and nature
To be sure, the word imita-
264 Self-Description
boundary is neither internal nor external to the object. Disegno is the rup- ture of a continuum; it explodes the world with the consequence that,
86
henceforth, there is one side. It is nothing one can draw from nature. more value was placed on artistic activity, disegno was thought of as artists' know-how and was supplemented by other notions. This inevitably raised the issue of criteria for good or inferior disegno and opened up an arena for debate and historical development. In and of itself, disegno was nothing more than a special case of Spencer Brown's injunction: "draw a distinc- tion. " At the same time, it involved more than simply following this in- junction "somehow. " Ontological nothingness had to be transformed into demonstrable skill that required criteria. Only then did it open up a space in which art could establish itself as a recursive system that creates its own determinations and stands in for itself.
This step established a worldview characteristic of other functional sys-
tems as well, a worldview that combined universalization and specifica-
tion. From the perspective of art, everythingwas disegno. The notion was
fully backed by theology--after all, God himself created the world on the
87
basis of a disegno. Philosophy, the sciences, the art of government, even
theology, all had to rest on an underlying disegno if they wanted to be ef-
88
fective in the world.
view of the designed world, namely, the artes in the usual sense, the "dis-
89
egno humano pratico. "
cluded almost everything--because it was specifically tailored to art. It was capable of formulating high demands, which, however, could no longer be decided upon by vote.
As never before, this first wave of reflection on art brought home the point that visibility depends on drawing a boundary against the invisible. In assuming form, art includes what it excludes. Deception deserves ad- miration as deception, as arteficium. The mere fact that deception is pos- sible says something about the world. In this regard, the artistic focus on deception paralleled a simultaneous scientific interest in hallucinations-- but rather than aim at a reality behind deception (after all, this was the age of a revived skepticism), art sought to make transparent the worldly fact of deception. The machina mundiwas copied as machinatio. The orienta- tion toward species and genres was reduced to the absurd as such. By pro- claiming and demonstrating such positions, art asserted--itself. This was what the self-description of art had to put into words.
Once the stakes of art were defined in terms of acutezza--which de-
The theory of art, however, treated only a partial
This concept included everything--and ex-
As
Self-Description 2 6 5
served admiration for its own sake--one discovered what remained invisi-
ble on the observer's side--the inscrutability of genius, the no so cheot je
ne sais quoi, which, in the seventeenth century, soon degenerated into
90
a cliche.
Art taught how to observe oneself as an observer, and self-
observation hit upon the unfathomable. Art demanded a type of admira-
tion that could not fully explain or account for itself. Ambivalent emotional
references (admiration, astonishment, terror, pity) entered into the classical
1
topic of thaumastbnladmiratio? which, in Descartes, took on the meaning
of "deviation, novelty" and eventually came very close to what today one
2
might call irritation? This ambivalence concerned observation itself rather
than its motives and interests, and it was closely related to the fact that one could analyze existing works according to their manner of presentation (maniera) without having the slightest idea of how novelty came about as novelty and why only the new couldplease. What remained unaccounted for was not the object itself, but the operation that brought it about. The in- visible observer announced himself in the description of his product. At this
93 point, the notion of good (cultivated) taste launched its career.
The seventeenth century invited art (especially poetry, narrative, and the theater) to do what science could never dream of, namely, to undermine the distinction between being and nonbeing, or between being and appearance. This is evident in John Donne, in Cervantes, and in Shakespeare, to men- tion examples pertaining to each one of the above-mentioned genres. The
94
unity of the distinction henceforth appeared only as paradox.
had been cultivating the art of paradox for quite some time, thus making paradox available as a means of irritation. Art drew on this familiar practice, but it used paradox in less arbitrary ways, not just for the sake of displaying
95
the art of paradox as an effective skill. To be sure, art played with para-
dox--for example, by exploiting the linguistic feature of using "nihil," "nothing," "nobody," and so forth as a grammatical subject, as something active, capable of being indicated and determined. The artistic interest in paradox aimed beyond mere trickery toward establishing a terrain on which science could not operate, yet nonetheless yielded insights--a terrain where fetal deception (of the self and others) reigns, where love or a sincerity that comes across as naivete" prevails, or, more generally, where the world pre- sents itself as appearance, devoid of stability and without essences.
Thus art came to emphasize its own obscurity, novelty, and paradox. Disegno became blurred; its extension into the invisible, unworked realm of the imaginary space of art could only be guessed at. But what can one hold
Rhetoric
i66 Self-Description
onto there, except the work of art itself? The illusion it creates predisposes art to serve courtly entertainments and to supply courts with material-- for example, in the form of the transparent nonrealism of novels in the style of Amadis. Art brought cunning, deceit, and illusion onto the stage, and in this way it copied into itself what it practiced. In the same vein, one expected the hero, since he performed admirable deeds on stage and was admired within its reality, also to be admired by the spectator, even though the audience experienced the stage as an illusory world and its situations
96
as out of the ordinary. Admiratio was generated as its own means. difference between being and appearance, between everyday life and the extraordinary was replicated within the world of appearance. To invoke Spencer Brown once again, the distinction "reenters" the distinguished, a solution to the problem that logic had to accept or, at any rate, could not surpass logic. The observer has no way of knowing how he observes; this insight was at once brought home to him and kept from him.
Art thus established itself on one side of the distinction Being/Appear- ance or Truth/Beauty and left the other side to science. Both systems cod- ified their sides as true/false or as beautiful/ugly, but the prior distinction was therewith forgotten or treated as a thematic premise for scientific re- search or artistic representation. In the domain of art, the fiction of the distinction between fiction and reality was not recognized. This primary fiction functioned, rather, as an unapproachable law, a transcendental condition, an unconscious realm in which there was no distinction be-
97
tween fiction and reality, no doubling of reality. In brief, it functioned as
paradox.
Beautiful appearance had to legitimize itself against religion and sci-
ence. But this necessity entailed the opportunity to adapt the relationship
between art and politics to changing conditions. After the invention of
print, politics was practiced not only in the form of courtly service but
also by publishing one's opinions for an anonymous audience in anticipa-
tion of a public (political, according to contemporary understanding) ef-
98
fect. We think of such authors as Erasmus, Sir Thomas More, Seyssel,
and Quevedo or, more generally, of the use of ambivalent stylistic means and of fictional (difficult to "censor") representations of political views. The topos of the world as a stage made room for inventions in artistic form, while easing the relationship between art and politics. This might
explain the sudden transition to modern forms of theater in the second
99
half of the sixteenth century.
The
Self-Description 267
The sharp differentiation of truth and beauty (science and art) should not lead one to expect that the old unity of the good and the beautiful (of honestum et decorum, morality and art) would be given up as well. Until the sentimental turn in the theory of morality toward the end of the sev- enteenth century, we can observe distinct parallel developments in the sci- ence of social behavior (morals, science de mceurs) and aesthetics, both of which shared a distance from modern science and an interest in beautiful appearance. The smoothing of social relationships required retaining, in- deed revalorizing, the rhetorical tradition against the background of ques- tionable and inscrutable religious meanings, in which one continued nonetheless to believe. In antiquity, ethics, unlike art, was expected to ap-
100
ply the guiding distinction virtue/vice to its own procedures.
tinction increasingly lost importance. The production of beautiful ap- pearance was now treated as the production of a work to be judged only from the perspective of its result.
The decisive difference that impelled art toward autonomy appears to have been the difference between art and the rationalism of the new sci- ences. Religion tolerated this differentiation of art and science, though it had also to accept the differentiation of both domains from itself. Around the mid-seventeenth century, a specifically political aesthetic differentiated itself in the form of the courtly ceremony, which, for roughly one hun- dred years, made it possible to stage the political reputation of those in
101
power at a sensuous-aesthetic level
--and to free the general develop-
ment of the self-description of the art system for further differentiation.
Ceremony was the cornerstone of an order of representation, to which be-
longed not only bodies and stylized gestures but also gardens, buildings,
city planning, theater performances (as microtheater within the macro-
theater), historical and poetic texts, as well as other things. These objects
functioned as a kind of circle of references, designed to hold together
widely distributed codings and structural asymmetries, including those of
politics, in the form of a thoroughly planned order of signs. Ceremony in
this sense was not a sacred ritual; it was not taken for granted as a proven
102
103
Rather, one now distinguished between religious and secular Ceremony still tolerated the liberties of an ingenious artistic
tradition.
ceremony.
variation, precisely the kind of liberties which the art system now claimed as its own terrain. Ceremony was presented with an awareness of its arti-
ficiality and of its regional differences, and this was why one needed a spe-
104
cial science of ceremony
The self-understanding of art, however, was
This dis-
268 Self-Description
no longer affected by this perishing hybrid. What would later be called "aesthetics" continued to be guided by distinctions within "higher" forms of cognition. Kant still felt the need to emphasize the distinction between ideas of reason and aesthetic ideas, which absolves him from saying any more about aesthetic ideas than that they are representations of the imag-
105
ination produced without concepts.
No matter what subsequent conceptual efforts accomplished, in view of
such an opposition, the self-description of art was forced to abide at the level of nonformulations in the manner of je ne sais quoi. This must have felt like a thorn in the side at a time that was preparing for a new ratio- nalism keen on distinctions and for "enlightenment"--at a time, in other words, when individuals were no longer disciplined by class hierarchy, but instead by the supposition that they act rationally.
Ill
In seventeenth-century theoretical discussions of art, the dimension of time gained significance to the extent that guiding perspectives became more irrational and de-ontologized. On the one hand, this shift in em- phasis gave rise to a discussion of rank--whether ancient art was superior to modern art or vice versa. On the other hand, one demanded--as if the matter had already been settled--that art present an original creation, that it be new and astonishing in a pleasing manner.
Regarding technical matters of composition, artistic production re- mained bound to experience, to what one could learn in workshops and from models that one might occasionally ignore. The semantics of self- description glossed over such matters; it changed more rapidly and called attention to styles and stylistic changes so as to affect the art system. In or- der to organize and regulate the mediating role of self-description (we think of Colbert), one established academies that cultivated education and communication about art. Temporal schemata such as old/new, original/ copy were stabilized and eventually taken for granted.
In the wake of the invention of the printing press, one copied continu- ously, emphatically welcoming the opportunity to do so. In view of this trend, the simultaneous devaluation of the concept of copia was astonish- ing, especially since in the rhetorical tradition the concept carried the pos- itive connotation of mastery over a great number of occasionally applica- ble figures and commonplaces (topoi). Apparently, the shift in the meaning
Self-Description 2 6 9
of copia was related to the revalorization of novelty within the dimension
106
of time.
trend that facilitated the distribution of art, which was also received with enthusiasm and from which novelty, for its part, could benefit. One found oneself in the midst of a new era, in which new ideas were communicated faster and spread among a much larger audience.
There is no need to elaborate on the details of this discussion. We will restrict ourselves to a few points that become significant in the transition to the eighteenth century, particularly in the realm of art.
The criteria of novelty and originality asserted and strengthened the dif- ferentiation of the art system, especially in relation to the systems of reli- gion and politics, which, during the seventeenth century, remained rather hostile toward innovation, because they feared potential "unrest. " Science and education, however, distinguished themselves from art as well. These systems were interested in proliferating new ideas in a different manner, since their capacity for innovation depended on providing the greatest possible number of people with an opportunity to learn quickly about the new trends to which they had to adapt. In these disciplines, copying was the very condition for the increasing probability of innovation. This was different in art, where emphasis was on the originality of individual works.
In connection with these changes, the meaning of the miraculous, of the extraordinary and unusual, of meraviglia shifted as well: it was no longer considered a thematic quality of art but referred instead to the accom- plishment of the artist. The classical discussion of the role of astonishment, which dates back to Aristotle, came to a close and was transformed into a debate about criteria for evaluating artistic accomplishments. The issue was no longer one of claiming license for extravagant moves in relation to cosmic events; rather, it turned more or less on the question of how an artist could maintain control over variety and bring it to bear on the unity of the work. The miraculous and the new merged with what one expected from art in terms of the originality and tlie difficulty of its task.
In addition, the temporalization of requirements within the art system affected the possibility of fixing objective criteria of beauty and for doing justice to such criteria in evaluating works of art. For the next one hundred years, one argued about "taste" and expected from this concept an answer to these new uncertainties. From a sociostructural perspective, this turn was related to the fact that the upper classes had lost the certainty of their judgments and now had to demonstrate expertise or at least pretend to do
The value of novelty stood in an orthogonal relation to the
2 7 0 Self-Description
so--in Italy, this situation was a consequence of frequent turnovers in the papacy along with their favorites and clans; in France, it occurred as a re- sult of a court centralism that enforced fashion, and in England it resulted from the upheavals of a long civil war. Origo no longer indicated the eter- nal presence of the origin or the aftereffects of descent. Originality now testified to the unexpected and inexplicable emergence of the new. Things lost their memory, so to speak. Their primary function was no longer to remind the beholder of their own nature or their creator. Now, objects were referred to by signs, or they were fitted out with the name of an au- thor in order to remind the beholder of their origin in time. This hap- pened at a level of communication outside the image or the text. Under such conditions, the artist had to create or at least stylize himself as the ori- gin. In retrospect, he could be described as "genius. " After all, originality was not a recipe that provided instructions for being original or for pro- ducing original works. Rather, we are dealing with a construct of second- order observation, which indirectly turned into a concern and a topic of art in its attempt to market itself as new and original.
The old system of connoisseurship was gradually replaced by a new sys- tem that combined a market-oriented mediation with expertise, and by a
107
critique that had been observing this trend all along.
Art had to publicly
assert itself both against critical judgment and against the market. In
search of criteria for judgment, the eighteenth-century reflection on art
clearly responded to a public interest in art and art criticism. In this con-
text, we should mention the discussion, initiated by Jonathan Richardson
in England, concerning objectivity and the recognition of the unique na-
108
ture of painting.
flected the effects of rhetoric. One praised the beautiful and the good, and presented in a negative light what one rejected. But the discussion failed to produce analyses of any depth, let alone a theoretically integrated ter- minology. Because of their didactic mission, the academies founded in the seventeenth century still taught familiar techniques, but one now found
109
this literature more in France than in Italy. One praised works that went
against the rules to represent their subject matter in a gracious, delightful, and agreeable manner. But it was not clear, as Coypel complained, how one could derive aesthetic criteria, if art was supposed to please and every-
110
body already knew what pleased him.
The emerging public sphere--
In its style of argumentation, this discussion still re-
made up of the noisy, inchoately expressive crowd that visited art exhibi-
111
tions
--was not specific to any one class, and that made it difficult for
Self-Description 2 7 1
the reflection on art to sort out its criteria, especially when it lacked a the- oretical guiding thread. It became virtually impossible to distinguish art criticism from the mere assertion of reputation.
In retrospect, the failure to determine objective criteria is often simpli- fied as a transition from objective to subjective (sensualist, pleasure- oriented) criteria. Upon closer inspection this view is untenable. Assum- ing subjective criteria without any grounding in reality makes no sense whatever. (Even Kant is forced to make concessions in this regard.