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Part II
The aesthetic dimension
Aesthetic experience revisited
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the aesthetic theory of art is not a comprehensive theory of all art.
However, the notion of aesthetic experience pervades our discussion of art.
...
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the most popular conception of aesthetic experience claims that it is
the disinterested and sympathetic attention and
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contemplation of any object whatsoever for its own sake.
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Our responses to artworks—let us call them art-responses—may encompass things other than aesthetic experience.
Yet what is it when we experience an artwork aesthetically?
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We can have what we call aesthetic experiences of artworks, or of everyday things, like nature.
These experiences involve
attention
and
contemplation
as their most characteristic elements.
...
Moreover, what are called aesthetic experiences are
sympathetic,
at least in this sense
: that we
take cognizance
of the object in question and we attempt to let it
guide us where it will.
...
what of disinterestedness?
Disinterestedness is generally regarded as the most important element of aesthetic experience.
But is aesthetic experience really disinterested?
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The existence of such a state is often inferred by considering certain examples and by proposing disinterestedness as the best concept for explaining them.
For instance, if someone goes to a school play because her daughter is in it,
and she spends all her time nodding beamingly at her offspring's performance,
proponents of disinterestedness will suggest that we all agree that her experience is not aesthetic.
What is wrong here?
The proponent of disinterestedness explains:
her attention is guided by her personal interests;
it is not impartial;
it is not disinterested.
Likewise, if a patron of the arts admires his recently acquired painting because he is sure it will make him world famous, his attention is motivated by his personal interests;
...
Finally, where a Bolshevik commissar reads a novel solely to confirm that all the references to Stalin are adulatory, he was not reading in a manner that most would call aesthetic.
...
Surely in these cases, there is something
wrong
or
deficient
about the way in which the audience members in question are responding to the relevant artworks.
As a friend of aesthetics, I ask:
What tf is really, truly
wrong
with
these cases
as given?
It's clear enough that they are
deficient,
if we insist on wording things that way. It's clear how they are "deficient," and in what they are "deficient." But
what's really wrong with being deficient
in just this way?
A parent may be smothering, a patron may be vain, and a commissar may be morally bankrupt and unfeeling, but of course this is not at all what Our Man means to suggest, and he is correct, presumably, that the (un)wisdom of these various stances is no more what is at issue in the diagnosis and consideration of "interested" attention than it is in the construction of ideals of "disinterested" attention.
What is at issue? It's a question of
what is or is not happening.
It's a simple question, really. The dialogue around it is so complex only because so many people, so much of the time, don't like the answers.
When the "happening" is cognitive rather than behavioral, it is extremely difficult to catch any glimpse at it at all; but that also is not what is at issue above. No matter on what side of the issue we have situated ourselves, by entering capital-P debate we presume to apply some deductive rigor to the problem as we see it; and if empirical investigation is difficult or impossible in the given case, that is no deterrent to such nonempirical methods as the capital-Ps deploy; if anything, a problem's intransigence to empirical methods actually
validates
the appeal to nonempirical methods.
So, speaking for a
theory
in which he does not personally believe, a theory which he has in fact made a career of opposing, Our Man Here professes
surety
that the
Aesthetic Theorist
thinks
there is something wrong
with "interested" attention paid to an artwork which (let us just presume) also affords the attention-payer the opportunity for aesthetic satisfaction. But how could there really be some big-picture moral principle at stake here? If there is such a principle at stake, then pretty much everyone who believes in a Judgment Day is in for a much tougher time than they realize, since
pretty much everyone
has been "wrong" about art in precisely this way, if not all the time then at least some of the time. Why?
Because we are profoundly
interested
creatures. It's
necessary,
actually, that we reset ourselves to "interested" in certain situations! The above-given examples, each in their own way, suggest a few of the more salient human situations in which "disinterest" would be pathological.
Where I think friends of aesthetics have erred most often and most egregiously is in characterizing the effort to achieve "disinterest." For the longest time it seems this was construed as an effort of the aesthete to achieve some stance vis-a-vis the object of interest. I've never been sure how that would even work, since it seems . . . very "interested," explicit, and self-conscious to put forth just that much effort toward the taking in of some artwork. It seems possible to me only in the abstract that "effort" could be "disinterested"; in reality, I don't see how I could evince "effort" and "disinterest" together in a single thought or action: should this be demanded of me, then the demand itself has simply created an "interest"; or, if there is no real demand, then there can be nothing like "effort" either.
But the artist, conventionally speaking, makes an effort too: the artist can make an effort to entrain the subject into so-called "aesthetic" subjectivity; or they can make no such effort, or they can make some other effort, or (this one really caught on for a while) they can make great, valorous effort to entrain the subject into
non-aesthetic subjectivity. If we really do think we can place a given artist on such a continuum, then we have surely identified one kind of "intent"; and then, for any "intentionalists" among us, there is the semblance of a principled reason for declaring there to be "something wrong" with the doting mother or (Urmson's example seized upon by
Dickie)
the greedy impresario. Something seems intuitively "wrong," or at least unfair, about all that noble art-effort coming to nothing on account of such base motives as attachment or greed.
Our Man
does
seem to believe in intent, and in intent-ional-ism. He seems
actually,
i.e. personally and professionally,
to believe in it.
I do not believe in intentionalism.
I do believe that "disinterestedness" and "interestedness" both
happen, and that the distinction between them is a coherent distinction, both abstractly and empirically.
I believe that "disinterested" aesthetic experience has an indispensible social function. However, this does not simply stipulate by implication that its "interested" counterpart is "wrong," either in general or in given cases, as above.
What
is
wrong? Intentionalism is wrong. Stuffed-shirt art-papistry is wrong. Calling a mother "wrong" for being unable to "distance" herself from her young daughter's school theater production is definitely
super wrong!
Labelling her connoisseurship of kid-theater as "deficient" is closer to the capital-P truth, but this is a bit rude and misdirected even for my tastes.
What
can
we say about the latter case? We can say much that will get us in equally hot water with a whole other department of the institutional Boomersphere leviathan. That is,
we can refuse to agree that "disinterest" is in evidence when we have good reason to think otherwise, and we can refuse to agree that "interestedness" is not in evidence when it very clearly is.
We can simply notice
that this silly little example actually is fully paradigmatic;
that mother-to-daughter is only the most powerful of many particularistic attachments;
that these attachments do not need to be half this powerful to be, nonetheless, fully destructive of "disinterest" and constitutive of "interest";
that culture is
"a mythical hero-system in which people serve in order to earn a feeling of primary value"
(Becker again), and that this is an "interest" that lives in every single human being, sometimes sublimated, other times exploding above the surface;
BUT, all the same, that such "interest" does not simply come and go at the same time, to the same degree, with same consequences, for everyone alike;
that every particularlistic attachment, every self-conscious tribal identification, every pang of hunger for "a feeling of primary value,"
every single one of these is a tidal wave of explicit "interest"
countervailing any implicitly "disinterested" practice;
and that it is not possible for "disinterest" to simply push back with equal force, since the very essence of "disinterest" is that it is implicit, unspoken, and yes, therefore intensely fragile.