Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Hard Case of Duchamp’s ‘Fountain’


 
Fountain A.Stieglitz photo 1917

Aestheticians are a fractured lot.  A patient  survey of the many thousands of papers and books published on aesthetics will confront the reader with a cacophony of ideas from philosophers who are described as Functionalists or Proceduralists or Institutionalists and even Expressionalists and Representationalists; each earnestly seeking to offer the penultimate word on the question ‘What is Art?’  I say penultimate because philosophers recognize they are only human and subject to error.  They offer their ideas so that they may be extended and advanced by others of a like mind. 

Nevertheless, aesthetics which was once simply defined as the exercise of taste and the appreciation of beauty has been kneaded, twisted, turned, flailed and even sautéed in an effort to cook up a theory of aesthetics that will account for all the many permutations of art that contemporary artists produce. Of course some traditional aestheticians merely deny that many of the oddities offered as art actually are examples of art. In this way they maintain the efficacy of their personal theories.  It seems that in such cases it is the artist who is at fault rather than the theory that attempts to explain art.  No doubt there are many attempts to make new art forms that fail (the ‘Happenings’ of the 60s are an example) but aestheticians can take no credit for their failure.  

The esoteric nature of most aesthetic theories prevent them from being absorbed and understood by the art going public who have little interest in philosophy.  For their part, they merely desire a pleasant afternoon perusing the exhibitions of their local gallery.  For most it is an opportunity to discover what it is everyone is talking about but few are concerned with why such talk is taking place.  While many may hold a tacit theory about what counts as art, which they feel is sufficient to distinguish works of interest from works of no importance, they would not desire their theory to be exposed or publicly tested and understandably soThough some may read in newspapers and magazines the wisdom of art critics or listen attentively to gallery tour guides, art appreciation still tends to be a private activity.

The point I am trying to bring to the fore is that it is not aestheticians, critics or informed tour guides that are most responsible for the longevity of our art works.  Rather, it is artists and the tacit opinions of the art going public that ensure the endurance of art.  Before institutional public exhibitions of art works became commonplace, artists’ studios were turned into galleries and were often visited by those who could not afford or did not desire to buy art.  Visiting works on show in outdoor galleries is still a popular pastime.

So does philosophical aesthetics really have a place where it can stand or is it merely whistling in the dark, alone and fearful of its irrelevance?  I vote for the latter and the topsie turvy arguments of recent aestheticians tend to strengthen this view.  For example the notion of an ‘aesthetic experience’ is no longer the product of ‘disinterested attention’ allowing for an emotional response to a work of art.  Rather, as the New Zealand aesthetician Stephen Davies argues, an aesthetic experience is fundamentally cognitive.[i]  It entails understanding and the ‘grasping of connections’ and the only reason it is described as aesthetic is because it is applied to art works. In other words an aesthetic experience is no different from any other contemplative experience. What is different is the reward obtained.

This is a long way from the Psychical Distance theory of Edward Bullough or the Institutional theory of George Dickie.   But while Davies is on solid ground with his view of aesthetic experience his ground is actually an island, afloat in the unpredictable, swirling sea of aesthetic theorizing; a sea awash with the flotsam and jetsam of ideas that were once held to be the flagships of aesthetic philosophy. Nevertheless, sincere aestheticians continue with their studious search for the essence of aesthetics without realizing, as Trevor Pateman argues, that their subject matter has little to do with their subject.[ii]

The subject is art and its works and it is to the fundamentals of art making we must look if we wish to philosophically unpack the ‘hard cases’ that tend to sink aestheticians.  A philosophy of art must tell us what objects may be called art and why.  It is the task of critics to pick up where philosophers leave off and tell us if the object in question is worthy or not... and why.

 Aestheticians tend to confuse and merge the practice of philosophy with the practice of criticism. They demonstrate their arguments with exemplary cases that have years of public certification rather than with works such as Duchamp’s Fountain, Warhol’s Brillo Boxes, Damien  Hirst’s The Physical Impossibility of Dying in the Mind of Someone Living or Tomoko Takahaski’s Rubbish.  To be sure some aestheticians have contrived convoluted theories in an attempt to include such works in their philosophy but the esoteric nature of their arguments subverts their intelligibility for all but a patient few.
 
There is a better way. But before this way is demonstrated we must unpack the three great fallacies of aesthetics.  The three are interdependent and to demonstrate the fallacy of one will show the weakness of the other two.

The first fallacy is that art works possess or contain the quality or property called ‘creativity’ and is most often expressed by the statement that ‘works of art are creative.’  (At the moment I am considering the Visual Arts but my comments are equally valid for all our art forms.)

Creativity is not a making activity, it is a thinking activity.  This is one reason artists have experimented with works that are described as ‘concept art’. 

While it may be hard for some to swallow, creativity no more exists in a painting than color exists in a painting.  Color exists in light and is measured by wave lengths and the pigments in paintings merely reflect particular wave lengths which the eye allows the mind to see as the color that is in the light.  So too, the creative act takes place in the mind of the viewer and is often accompanied by the shock of recognition. This is why I find no objection to Davies’ insistence that appreciating art is fundamentally the cognitive act of grasping connections.

When someone describes a work as creative they are saying something about themselves and perhaps the artist.  This may also be true when a work is described as lacking creativity.   But who could recognize creativity if they did not have the capacity to think creatively?  Given time ten thousand monkeys pounding on a key board may be able to write one of Shakespeare’s sonnets but if this should be so, who is it that recognizes the deed?

Philosophically, creativity is not a defining condition for categorizing a work as art though it may play a role in the criticism of particular works; it may be used to describe some works as good and some works as bad.  If the efficacy of my argument has been persuasive then the second fallacy will be seen to be superfluous. 

The second fallacy is that works we call art must be artifacts; they must be man made.  Paintings by cats, elephants, monkeys and found objects are excluded.  If we can accept that creativity exists in the mind of the viewer (remembering that artists don’t paint what they see, rather, they see what they paint) we can understand how it is that it need not be the case that art must be man made. This postulate is coveted by aestheticians to honor the supremacy of human activity.  But the supremacy of human activity is a cognitive activity and it is not lessened or devalued by appreciating works that are not man made.
                                     Blue Flowers by eight year old elephant Wanpen                                                   

The third fallacy is that art must have a point expressed by Benjamin Tilghman as ‘what is the point of art?’[iii]  For aestheticians the point of art is to satisfy some aesthetic function and if a work has no aesthetic function then it is by definition not a work of art. But the point of art is that it is art and while this may sound circular I hope in the following to show the contrary.

The term ‘art’ can be used in a number of different ways; each with a different meaning or sense.  Some may use the term honorifically as, when viewing a painting, they exclaim: “Now that’s what I call Art!” But it may also be used ironically or metaphorically.  Most, however, tend to use the term in its classificatory sense meaning that all art works or art forms are classified under one heading.  In discussions about art it is easy to, unknowingly, jump from the classificatory sense to the honorific sense of the term when presenting an argument.  For this reason I shall be using the term ‘art’ in it’s classificatory sense.
 
In its classificatory sense the term ‘art’ is shorthand for the term ‘art form’ or ‘art forms’. An art form is a category term that gathers works together based on the medium used and the manner of application.  Theatre is an art form as is oil painting, stone sculpture, dance, literature, etc. Art forms also contain subheadings which distinguish particular works as belonging to a genre, style or school of presentation.

As categorial designators art forms are sui generis; they are unique and have no counterpart in any other non-art categorial system.  Aristotle was the first to recognize this point 2500 years ago. Aristotle insisted that all works of art have a Medium of presentation, a Manner of presentation and an Object (now often call subject Matter) of presentation.  These three aspects of a work allow us to determine its form; the category of art in which it is placed.  This is one reason why we seldom confuse everyday items with works of art.

                                                      
 
We distinguish one art form from another by attending to the constituent parts of each of its three aspects.  For example, an oil painting and a water color are different art forms.  While each may present the same subject or object, each have a different medium which require different methods of application; different manners of presentation.  The medium of a work is most often our means of identifying its form.

Given this brief description of form we are now ready to unpack one of those ‘hard cases’ that plague aestheticians.   When Marcel Duchamp entered his Fountain, a urinal, in the 1917 Armory Art Show it was placed in the open sculpture section and as a result regulated to a back room.  It outraged many and was widely ridiculed.  Critics and patrons did not recognize its art form but today it is considered the flagship of the art form known as ‘ready-mades’.  

Duchamp was rebelling against the practice of aestheticians of the day and chose an item that was easily identifiable.  The medium of ready-mades is usually an object or objects that have been manufactured but are divorced from their utilitarian role.  In this instance the artist has used a porcelain urinal.  But the artist has up ended the work and presented it in a manner to which we are unaccustomed and the water inlet is facing us.

Could anyone have made it? It is doubtful.  Duchamp was the thinking man’s artist. He was a philosopher of art who chose to open the artistic version of Pandora’s Box to show us that experimenting with new forms was as reputable as experimenting with established forms.  The shock of recognition lies in our ability to see that the artist was right.

 With this work Duchamp is turning a pun into art (he published two books on puns); ‘taking the piss’ out of those who held that art had to be aesthetically pleasing. The catchment area showing the holes that drain the urinal is upright facing us. In this position the opening is shaped as a drop of water, reflecting its title.  Clearly the artist was presenting us with an uncommon view. We are not expected to see it as a functional item.  The artist is telling us that this item has another aspect.

The signature, R Mutt and the date 1917 serve a dual purpose. Mutt is a slang term (short for mutton-head) and became part of the American vernacular around 1901. Duchamp was mimicking the artist’s tradition of signing and dating his or her works.  He was also implying that any mutton-head could make a work of art.

Fountain was offered as a humorous work with serious implications.  The title acts as a trigger allowing us the freedom to laugh with the artist.  Humor in art often requires of us as much intellectual rigor as non-humorous works.

It is not important to our understanding of art that Duchamp did not make his notorious work.  Many great artists of the past (including Michelangelo, Rembrandt and da Vinci) employed other artists who contributed to their works. The artist who initiates the work is the one credited for it.

In Aristotle’s terms the medium is obvious. It is a porcelain urinal.  The manner of presentation is clear; the urinal is up ended and placed on a pedestal; presenting us with a new perspective and painted with a mock signature. Its object or subject matter is clear; as a fountain can be a urinal so can a urinal be a fountain.  The work is an articulate exposition of itself as art reminding us that the enjoyment of art is lost when we become too pompous.

No doubt some of you will be quietly saying to yourself: “This fellow has drawn a very long Bow!”  I would ask you to take note of the fact that we do not preserve works merely because they are great works of art.  In this instance the work foreshadows several major movements in art.  It is of seminal importance and as valuable to art as that first prehistoric rendering of a hand print on a cave wall. 
         
Launt Thompson
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[i] Davies, Stephen, Definitions of Art, Cornell University Press Ithica and London 1991 (paperback edition pp 59.
[ii] See Pateman, Trevor, KEY CONCEPTS A Guide to Aesthetics, Criticism and the Arts, The Falmer Press, London, 1991.
[iii] Tilghman,  Benjamin  R. But is it Art?, Blackwell, Oxford 1984

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