Fragments/Journal - Art and Techne
For the moderns, art is a representation of beauty, while for the ancients it is taking communion with the beautiful. There is a subtle, but very important, difference in this. Imagine the prominence of a work of art, a painting confined within the farthest reaches of a private mansion as opposed to the sculptural scene of heroism amidst divine warfare in a temple. The latter is not mere representation, but crafted in such a way that the form of the artwork has a vitality in conjunction with the ceremonies and mysteries that will take place there. In opposition to this, the craft of the former is entirely hidden, a technicalism of private recesses which in turn can only be appreciated in another private recess.
It is no mistake that such craft becomes confined within the singular dimension of the canvas, we have abandoned craft in favour of techne, or even worse, a mechanisation of techne. In later developments, the image becomes even further removed, as if the shadows on the wall of Plato's Cave were now a craft all their own.
Art is not the central force itself, but the pathing through which ceremony is performed as an ode within memory. The artistic creation can be one of the three of these forms, cultivating the spirit of the others without their being diminished - this is why there is a hierarchy of the arts and yet each is indivisible, has its own sovereignty and equal strength in relation with beauty. A law of the Muses reigns over art, and it is our communion with their memory which separates mere representation from something far greater.
The modernist can only imagine this in a form of completion, a totalism; hence the reign of opera, technicalism, and the formal romanticism of gesamtkunstwerk. This is not in any way intended to detract from a figure like Wagner, since he is of his time and an artist of great value - I only say this in defense of the 'lesser' works, the low art and craft of common people. If we consider the craft and techne of the violin there is an interesting shift that occurs. All of the bow techniques of the fiddler are intended to give life to the music, a vitality which cultivates a feeling of dance in itself, while the violin of an orchestra is played in such a way as to be a mechanical part of the technicalised creation - wherein the seated audience must imagine itself dancing, or communing with divinity. As proof of this difference one can point to the waltzes in which the intricacy of the classical composition falls away and approaches the form of folk music. That music which is created for the dancers is a craft, and more in spirit with the ancient understanding of art. (For the bourgeois spirits, or those who simply prefer high art, one could also point to the cantata, where the voice drives the music into its finality, or even pulls the entire form together as if a memory, in opposition to the opera where the human voice stands above all else, the instrumentation giving way to its sovereignty.)
This is an important consideration, especially given our current situation where art seems to have escaped us, been lost in some way. But in contrast to that great marxist claim that the mechanical reproduction of art diminishes the aura, we can say that the aura already begins to diminish before the rise of mechanical reproduction (or really, it has shifted to another source, rather than diminishing it may only be that we cannot sense it). It is also interesting to note that where the bourgeoisie abandoned, and even destroyed, its own creations, folk art has survived (often while under severe threat by bourgeois state measures). And we are at a point in time now where high art is attempting to reconcile with its destructive past - the instruments of chemists, engineers, and pharmacists required to increase the density of a technicalised object - something of an ode to its own memory can be seen in the metastasis of art, a formalism in search of its form (most notable, or even pathological, in performance art). Simplicity and silence takes a formalist position of prominence within the great works of our time. We are left to dispose of the explosive chemical powders abandoned within the pharmacies, and we must do so with care so that the losses are minimised.
After that, and given our unlikely survival, we may be able to return art to its craft, its necessity.
It is no mistake that such craft becomes confined within the singular dimension of the canvas, we have abandoned craft in favour of techne, or even worse, a mechanisation of techne. In later developments, the image becomes even further removed, as if the shadows on the wall of Plato's Cave were now a craft all their own.
Art is not the central force itself, but the pathing through which ceremony is performed as an ode within memory. The artistic creation can be one of the three of these forms, cultivating the spirit of the others without their being diminished - this is why there is a hierarchy of the arts and yet each is indivisible, has its own sovereignty and equal strength in relation with beauty. A law of the Muses reigns over art, and it is our communion with their memory which separates mere representation from something far greater.
The modernist can only imagine this in a form of completion, a totalism; hence the reign of opera, technicalism, and the formal romanticism of gesamtkunstwerk. This is not in any way intended to detract from a figure like Wagner, since he is of his time and an artist of great value - I only say this in defense of the 'lesser' works, the low art and craft of common people. If we consider the craft and techne of the violin there is an interesting shift that occurs. All of the bow techniques of the fiddler are intended to give life to the music, a vitality which cultivates a feeling of dance in itself, while the violin of an orchestra is played in such a way as to be a mechanical part of the technicalised creation - wherein the seated audience must imagine itself dancing, or communing with divinity. As proof of this difference one can point to the waltzes in which the intricacy of the classical composition falls away and approaches the form of folk music. That music which is created for the dancers is a craft, and more in spirit with the ancient understanding of art. (For the bourgeois spirits, or those who simply prefer high art, one could also point to the cantata, where the voice drives the music into its finality, or even pulls the entire form together as if a memory, in opposition to the opera where the human voice stands above all else, the instrumentation giving way to its sovereignty.)
This is an important consideration, especially given our current situation where art seems to have escaped us, been lost in some way. But in contrast to that great marxist claim that the mechanical reproduction of art diminishes the aura, we can say that the aura already begins to diminish before the rise of mechanical reproduction (or really, it has shifted to another source, rather than diminishing it may only be that we cannot sense it). It is also interesting to note that where the bourgeoisie abandoned, and even destroyed, its own creations, folk art has survived (often while under severe threat by bourgeois state measures). And we are at a point in time now where high art is attempting to reconcile with its destructive past - the instruments of chemists, engineers, and pharmacists required to increase the density of a technicalised object - something of an ode to its own memory can be seen in the metastasis of art, a formalism in search of its form (most notable, or even pathological, in performance art). Simplicity and silence takes a formalist position of prominence within the great works of our time. We are left to dispose of the explosive chemical powders abandoned within the pharmacies, and we must do so with care so that the losses are minimised.
After that, and given our unlikely survival, we may be able to return art to its craft, its necessity.
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