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Leonardo
A Response to Donald BrookAuthor(s): David CarrierSource: Leonardo, Vol. 22, No. 2 (1989), pp. 198-199Published by: The MIT PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1575230 .
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well have been different. Moreover all of art (so the semiotic theory tramples on over the felled doubter's body) is
just like that. We must learn Consta- ble's visual conventions as we do those of the traffic engineer: they have no natural basis.
But the fact is that pictorial 'conven- tions' are not arbitrary in this logically perfect way. Let us turn, for our own knock-down case, to the way in which the purple hills in the painting stand
'conventionally' for the green hills in the far distance. The suggestio falsi of Kraussian rhetoric is that we might im-
aginably have settled on red or yellow, instead of purple, as the appropriate 'conventional' colour with which to
represent distant hills in naturalistic
painting. Now this is nonsense. Pictures differ
from descriptions in just this way: that the 'arbitrariness' of their form is con- strained by certain very widely shared frailties of human perception. Under
frequently encountered conditions we have a common tendency to fail in our
capacity for colour discrimination as between pale purple canvases held up square to our angle of sight at a mod- erate distance in a good light, and real distant hills seen in most normal at-
mospheres. Yellow pictures do not
bring this widely shared perceptual weakness into prominence: painters could not rely upon it in order to get naturalistic representation going. What is conventional about purple hills in landscape painting is not the
purple (as if the colour might equally well have been yellow or red) but the
system of practical comparison: namely, the conventional agreement that a re- semblance is to be discerned with one flat specimen supported perpendicu- lar to the line of sight at a distance of
only a few feet in reasonable daylight, while the comparative item is three- dimensional and considerably distant (etc.). All of that apparatus is conven- tional enough; and of course different
picturing conventions (for example, the equally arbitrary convention that
pictures are to be regarded as devices made to be looked at obliquely through concave mirrors under tungs- ten lighting at night) would yield dif- ferent solutions (or maybe sometimes no solution) to the problems of natu- ralistic pictorial representation.
well have been different. Moreover all of art (so the semiotic theory tramples on over the felled doubter's body) is
just like that. We must learn Consta- ble's visual conventions as we do those of the traffic engineer: they have no natural basis.
But the fact is that pictorial 'conven- tions' are not arbitrary in this logically perfect way. Let us turn, for our own knock-down case, to the way in which the purple hills in the painting stand
'conventionally' for the green hills in the far distance. The suggestio falsi of Kraussian rhetoric is that we might im-
aginably have settled on red or yellow, instead of purple, as the appropriate 'conventional' colour with which to
represent distant hills in naturalistic
painting. Now this is nonsense. Pictures differ
from descriptions in just this way: that the 'arbitrariness' of their form is con- strained by certain very widely shared frailties of human perception. Under
frequently encountered conditions we have a common tendency to fail in our
capacity for colour discrimination as between pale purple canvases held up square to our angle of sight at a mod- erate distance in a good light, and real distant hills seen in most normal at-
mospheres. Yellow pictures do not
bring this widely shared perceptual weakness into prominence: painters could not rely upon it in order to get naturalistic representation going. What is conventional about purple hills in landscape painting is not the
purple (as if the colour might equally well have been yellow or red) but the
system of practical comparison: namely, the conventional agreement that a re- semblance is to be discerned with one flat specimen supported perpendicu- lar to the line of sight at a distance of
only a few feet in reasonable daylight, while the comparative item is three- dimensional and considerably distant (etc.). All of that apparatus is conven- tional enough; and of course different
picturing conventions (for example, the equally arbitrary convention that
pictures are to be regarded as devices made to be looked at obliquely through concave mirrors under tungs- ten lighting at night) would yield dif- ferent solutions (or maybe sometimes no solution) to the problems of natu- ralistic pictorial representation.
To miss this simple truth, and to assimilate all visual representation wholesale into 'semiotics', is to miss so fundamental a point about pictorial representation that the undoubted
To miss this simple truth, and to assimilate all visual representation wholesale into 'semiotics', is to miss so fundamental a point about pictorial representation that the undoubted
success of the 'rhetoric' should disturb us no more (and no less) than the successes of racist or creationist rhe- torics. Such rhetorics can be-indeed, here and there they are-remarkably successful, as well as (arguably) wrong.
Of course not everything that the author claims in Artwriting is disabled by his adoption of the semiotic stance. Visual representations (pictures, in a
reasonably extended sense of the word) do not only represent by simu- lating the appearances of such things as distant hills. They also represent by exemplifying the very same qualities as their subjects-for example, by pre- senting square tables to us as square, no matter how they currently 'appear to the eye'. (It should be noted in pass- ing that the criterion of valid exempli- fication is not arbitrary, in the semiotic sense, either. We cannot simply decide to treat circular things as exemplifying squareness.) And then, finally, pic- tures represent symbolically, like traf- fic lights. Or, not quite finally: one
might well reserve for last the com-
pound case in which, for example, a
simulating elliptical patch of paint represents an obliquely seen circle, which, in respect of its circularity, ex-
emplifies a (putatively real) property of the halo, which itself symbolizes abstract
perfection and Christian sanctity. Art history, Carrier tells us, relies
upon persuasive closed narratives. Sto- ries allegedly providing art with its sub-
ject, and hence its history, are said to need beginnings, middles and ends.
Greenberg's narrative of modernism begins not too far from where Gom- brich's story about naturalism ends. Either story may in principle be sup- plemented or displaced by another. Contrastingly, Michael Fried and Adrian Stokes, by insisting upon the 'presentness' of art and placing rela-
tively little weight on 'genealogies', are credited with powerful artwriting that lacks the narrative credentials to
support a history. Only if we ask ourselves why there
should not be an open narrative do we understand the essential historicism of the Carrier doctrine. Art histories are supposed not merely to collect to- gether whatever happened under the
appropriate narrative, but also to ex- plain whatever happened by appeal to that narrative, as if the historical par-
success of the 'rhetoric' should disturb us no more (and no less) than the successes of racist or creationist rhe- torics. Such rhetorics can be-indeed, here and there they are-remarkably successful, as well as (arguably) wrong.
Of course not everything that the author claims in Artwriting is disabled by his adoption of the semiotic stance. Visual representations (pictures, in a
reasonably extended sense of the word) do not only represent by simu- lating the appearances of such things as distant hills. They also represent by exemplifying the very same qualities as their subjects-for example, by pre- senting square tables to us as square, no matter how they currently 'appear to the eye'. (It should be noted in pass- ing that the criterion of valid exempli- fication is not arbitrary, in the semiotic sense, either. We cannot simply decide to treat circular things as exemplifying squareness.) And then, finally, pic- tures represent symbolically, like traf- fic lights. Or, not quite finally: one
might well reserve for last the com-
pound case in which, for example, a
simulating elliptical patch of paint represents an obliquely seen circle, which, in respect of its circularity, ex-
emplifies a (putatively real) property of the halo, which itself symbolizes abstract
perfection and Christian sanctity. Art history, Carrier tells us, relies
upon persuasive closed narratives. Sto- ries allegedly providing art with its sub-
ject, and hence its history, are said to need beginnings, middles and ends.
Greenberg's narrative of modernism begins not too far from where Gom- brich's story about naturalism ends. Either story may in principle be sup- plemented or displaced by another. Contrastingly, Michael Fried and Adrian Stokes, by insisting upon the 'presentness' of art and placing rela-
tively little weight on 'genealogies', are credited with powerful artwriting that lacks the narrative credentials to
support a history. Only if we ask ourselves why there
should not be an open narrative do we understand the essential historicism of the Carrier doctrine. Art histories are supposed not merely to collect to- gether whatever happened under the
appropriate narrative, but also to ex- plain whatever happened by appeal to that narrative, as if the historical par- ticipants were all dutiful actors playing out the very script that we, the histori- ans, hold in our hand. We can explain why Macbeth must now lose his head because the witches have laid out the
ticipants were all dutiful actors playing out the very script that we, the histori- ans, hold in our hand. We can explain why Macbeth must now lose his head because the witches have laid out the
mortal principle, Macduff has just re- vealed the Caesarian birth, and we are well into Act V, Scene 8. As a matter of fact this kind of pseudo-causal script- ing was just about true of Green-
bergian modernism; but history in
general ought surely to rely upon a doctrine of explanation that does not depend quite so outrageously upon the necessary principle of fidelity to the plot.
A history of art-or, anyway, a his-
tory of representation-could, I sug- gest, be constructed by first of all
teasing out the temporal shifts in em-
phasis between simulating, exemplify- ing and symbolizing modes of visual
representation, and then explaining why these shifts took place. Some ele- ments of the explanation will be caus- al, some teleological. Occasionally, no doubt, but not always, there will be a
plot. But by now we are sketching the
draft for a very different book, and
may be old-fashioned enough to think that this is not the way to deal fairly with the one we are reviewing. We shall not defer to the author's implication that fair dealing may be no more than
just another rhetoric, to be discarded the moment its persuasiveness fails.
References 1. David Carrier, Artwriting (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1987) p. 138.
2. Carrier [1] p. 9. Emphasis added.
3. Carrier [1] p. 30.
4. Carrier [1] p. 118.
5. Carrier [1] p. 13.
6. Carrier [1] p. 139.
7. Carrier [1] p. 80.
8. Carrier [1] p. 83.
9. Carrier [1] p. 87.
A RESPONSE TO DONALD BROOK
David Carier
Several years ago, an article I pub- lished in Leonardo was the subject of a highly critical response by RudolfArn- heim [1]. What I much admired in Arnheim's discussion was his very clear understanding of what I did and did not say. Unless a commentator can provide an accurate account of the
mortal principle, Macduff has just re- vealed the Caesarian birth, and we are well into Act V, Scene 8. As a matter of fact this kind of pseudo-causal script- ing was just about true of Green-
bergian modernism; but history in
general ought surely to rely upon a doctrine of explanation that does not depend quite so outrageously upon the necessary principle of fidelity to the plot.
A history of art-or, anyway, a his-
tory of representation-could, I sug- gest, be constructed by first of all
teasing out the temporal shifts in em-
phasis between simulating, exemplify- ing and symbolizing modes of visual
representation, and then explaining why these shifts took place. Some ele- ments of the explanation will be caus- al, some teleological. Occasionally, no doubt, but not always, there will be a
plot. But by now we are sketching the
draft for a very different book, and
may be old-fashioned enough to think that this is not the way to deal fairly with the one we are reviewing. We shall not defer to the author's implication that fair dealing may be no more than
just another rhetoric, to be discarded the moment its persuasiveness fails.
References 1. David Carrier, Artwriting (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1987) p. 138.
2. Carrier [1] p. 9. Emphasis added.
3. Carrier [1] p. 30.
4. Carrier [1] p. 118.
5. Carrier [1] p. 13.
6. Carrier [1] p. 139.
7. Carrier [1] p. 80.
8. Carrier [1] p. 83.
9. Carrier [1] p. 87.
A RESPONSE TO DONALD BROOK
David Carier
Several years ago, an article I pub- lished in Leonardo was the subject of a highly critical response by RudolfArn- heim [1]. What I much admired in Arnheim's discussion was his very clear understanding of what I did and did not say. Unless a commentator can provide an accurate account of the
David Carrier (philosopher), Department of History and Philosophy, Carnegie-Mellon University, Schenley Park, Pittsburgh, PA 15213, U.S.A.
Received 2 May 1988.
David Carrier (philosopher), Department of History and Philosophy, Carnegie-Mellon University, Schenley Park, Pittsburgh, PA 15213, U.S.A.
Received 2 May 1988.
198 Brook, Review of Artwritingby David Carrier 198 Brook, Review of Artwritingby David Carrier
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text he or she is criticizing, rational ar-
gumentation is really impossible. The trouble with Donald Brook's review of
my Artwriting is that it is not accurate. Since he fails to correctly state my posi- tion, which-right or wrong-is, I be- lieve, clearly presented in the book, but instead chooses to attribute to me views I do not hold and have never held, there is no point in arguing about all the details of his inaccurate account. I will focus most of my atten- tion on the straightforward errors in his review.
Brook begins plausibly enough by noting that I am interested in the dif- ferences between art criticism and art
history, and the special role played- so I argue-in art criticism by rhetoric. He correctly notes that my view of art
history is not spelled out at length in this book. In a sequence of published or soon-to-be-published papers, part of a forthcoming book, I deal with the role of rhetoric in art history [2]. He seems puzzled by my claim that, while the importance of Manet's work is
agreed upon, the value of contem-
porary art remains to be established.
Complaining that I do not explain why Manet's art is important, he asks, "Is there a rational foundation to the 'consensus'?" But I discuss that prob- lem, the nature of the canon, at some
length in the book he has reviewed; and he offers no account of that argu- ment [3]. He complains that I offer no real basis for my claim that interpreta- tions of Manet's A Bar at the Folies-
Bergtreare debatable. But I present five
interpretations of that work and, refer-
ring to my previously published ac- count of Manet, argue that these inter-
pretations do conflict [4]. Most astonishingly, he goes on to
say that I reject Gombrich's theory of
pictorial naturalism in favor of a sem- iotic account borrowed from Nelson Goodman and Norman Bryson. My central theme, he claims, is that all
representations are conventional. This is false. I write, "Neither Good- man's treatise, Languages of Art, nor
Bryson's books give a clearly accept- able semiotic theory of images; as their critics have repeatedly noted, they do not really succeed in demonstrating that Gombrich's intuitively more
plausible account is wrong" [5]. He
says that I give the art critic Rosalind
text he or she is criticizing, rational ar-
gumentation is really impossible. The trouble with Donald Brook's review of
my Artwriting is that it is not accurate. Since he fails to correctly state my posi- tion, which-right or wrong-is, I be- lieve, clearly presented in the book, but instead chooses to attribute to me views I do not hold and have never held, there is no point in arguing about all the details of his inaccurate account. I will focus most of my atten- tion on the straightforward errors in his review.
Brook begins plausibly enough by noting that I am interested in the dif- ferences between art criticism and art
history, and the special role played- so I argue-in art criticism by rhetoric. He correctly notes that my view of art
history is not spelled out at length in this book. In a sequence of published or soon-to-be-published papers, part of a forthcoming book, I deal with the role of rhetoric in art history [2]. He seems puzzled by my claim that, while the importance of Manet's work is
agreed upon, the value of contem-
porary art remains to be established.
Complaining that I do not explain why Manet's art is important, he asks, "Is there a rational foundation to the 'consensus'?" But I discuss that prob- lem, the nature of the canon, at some
length in the book he has reviewed; and he offers no account of that argu- ment [3]. He complains that I offer no real basis for my claim that interpreta- tions of Manet's A Bar at the Folies-
Bergtreare debatable. But I present five
interpretations of that work and, refer-
ring to my previously published ac- count of Manet, argue that these inter-
pretations do conflict [4]. Most astonishingly, he goes on to
say that I reject Gombrich's theory of
pictorial naturalism in favor of a sem- iotic account borrowed from Nelson Goodman and Norman Bryson. My central theme, he claims, is that all
representations are conventional. This is false. I write, "Neither Good- man's treatise, Languages of Art, nor
Bryson's books give a clearly accept- able semiotic theory of images; as their critics have repeatedly noted, they do not really succeed in demonstrating that Gombrich's intuitively more
plausible account is wrong" [5]. He
says that I give the art critic Rosalind Krauss "the knock-down case" for such a semiotic theory. But what in fact I offer, after a sympathetic presentation of her account, is severe criticism of her view. Since today these semiotic
Krauss "the knock-down case" for such a semiotic theory. But what in fact I offer, after a sympathetic presentation of her account, is severe criticism of her view. Since today these semiotic
theories are taken seriously by many artists and art critics, even someone like myself who is inclined to think that they are fundamentally mistaken, for reasons explained at some length in my book, must consider how they influence artists.
Here perhaps a historical parallel is
helpful. Few present-day philosophers are Neoplatonists or Aristotelians, but even though those philosophical sys- tems today seem entirely mistaken or outdated, the modern historian who wants to understand Renaissance art as the artists themselves understood it must take account of those theories [6]. Brook's own critique of the semi- otic theories observes that they are "nonsense" and says that they miss the
"simple truth". Whatever the truth, it cannot be simple since these issues have been much debated in Leonardo and other journals for some two de- cades now. That debate will surely con- tinue, but Brook's claim that Good- man and Bryson assimilate all visual
representations to verbal descriptions will not contribute to the argument. In fact, what they offer are different
highly complex theories of the differ- ences between verbal and visual rep- resentations [7]. Brook's defense of Gombrich's account nowhere demon- strates any awareness of this debate, in which Gombrich himself has partici- pated frequently in Leonardo and else- where.
As to the view he attributes to me in the last line of his review, that for me "fair dealing may be no more than just another rhetoric", that is more than inaccurate; it is genuinely offensive in its questioning of my scholarly integ- rity. What is worse, it shows little
knowledge of rhetoric, which from Va- sari's time to the present has been im-
portant for artwriters. To be explicit: Fair dealing, as I understand it, means
being true to the facts, and the aim of
my book is to understand the relation between truth and rhetoric in recent art criticism. A good theory must be both true and persuasive, and the re- lation between these two demands is, I argue, complex. I devote much atten- tion to sympathetically understanding the strengths and weaknesses of the various theories I discuss. Everything I
say may be wrong, confused or unin-
teresting, but that can be shown only
theories are taken seriously by many artists and art critics, even someone like myself who is inclined to think that they are fundamentally mistaken, for reasons explained at some length in my book, must consider how they influence artists.
Here perhaps a historical parallel is
helpful. Few present-day philosophers are Neoplatonists or Aristotelians, but even though those philosophical sys- tems today seem entirely mistaken or outdated, the modern historian who wants to understand Renaissance art as the artists themselves understood it must take account of those theories [6]. Brook's own critique of the semi- otic theories observes that they are "nonsense" and says that they miss the
"simple truth". Whatever the truth, it cannot be simple since these issues have been much debated in Leonardo and other journals for some two de- cades now. That debate will surely con- tinue, but Brook's claim that Good- man and Bryson assimilate all visual
representations to verbal descriptions will not contribute to the argument. In fact, what they offer are different
highly complex theories of the differ- ences between verbal and visual rep- resentations [7]. Brook's defense of Gombrich's account nowhere demon- strates any awareness of this debate, in which Gombrich himself has partici- pated frequently in Leonardo and else- where.
As to the view he attributes to me in the last line of his review, that for me "fair dealing may be no more than just another rhetoric", that is more than inaccurate; it is genuinely offensive in its questioning of my scholarly integ- rity. What is worse, it shows little
knowledge of rhetoric, which from Va- sari's time to the present has been im-
portant for artwriters. To be explicit: Fair dealing, as I understand it, means
being true to the facts, and the aim of
my book is to understand the relation between truth and rhetoric in recent art criticism. A good theory must be both true and persuasive, and the re- lation between these two demands is, I argue, complex. I devote much atten- tion to sympathetically understanding the strengths and weaknesses of the various theories I discuss. Everything I
say may be wrong, confused or unin-
teresting, but that can be shown only by a reading of my account which is itself true to the facts. What 'fair deal-
ing' by a reviewer ought to demand, I believe, is an accurate statement of my argument, for only then would it be
by a reading of my account which is itself true to the facts. What 'fair deal-
ing' by a reviewer ought to demand, I believe, is an accurate statement of my argument, for only then would it be
possible to see whether my claims are defensible. Ironically, the draft Brook
proposes for "a very different book" is one that would interest me. As I say in
my book, another "history ... might also be convincing; its success could
only be determined after it was worked out in as much detail as is my account" [8]. If I have inspired him to write such a book, perhaps I have accomplished something.
References
1. David Carrier, "On the Possibility of Aesthetic Atheism: Philosophy and the Market in Art", Leo- nardo 18, No. 1, 35-38 (1985); and Rudolf Arn- heim, "To the Rescue of Art", Editorial, Leonardo 19, No. 2,95-97 (1986).
2. See my "The Transfiguration of the Common- place: Caravaggio and His Interpreters", Word & Image 3, No. 1, 41-73 (1987); "Piero della Francesca and His Interpreters: Is There Progress in Art History?" History and Theory 26, No. 2, 150- 165 (1987); "Naturalism and Allegory in Flemish Painting", TheJournal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 45, No. 3, 237-249 (1987); "Manet and His Inter-
preters", Art History 8, 320-335 (1985); "Gavin Hamilton's Oath of Brutus and David's Oath of the Horatii. The Revisionist Interpretation of Neo- Classical Art", The Monist, forthcoming; and
"Tropics ofArtwriting: Wiinckelmann, Pater, Mo- relli and Freud", History of the Human Sciences, forthcoming.
3. David Carrier, Artwriting (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1987) pp. 37-41.
4. Carrier [3] pp. 6-9.
5. Carrier [3] p. 87.
6. The most distinguished such discussion is David Summers, TheJudgment of Sense. Renaissance Naturalism and the Rise of Aesthetics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987).
7. See Nelson Goodman, Languages andArt (Indi- anapolis and New York: The Bobbs-Merrill Com- pany, 1968) Ch. 4; and Norman Bryson, Word and Image. French Painting of the Ancien Regime (Cam- bridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981).
8. Carrier [3] p. 136.
A REJOINDER TO DAVID CARRIER
Donald Brook
David Carrier tells us that truth and rhetoric are distinct. "A good theory must be both true and persuasive", he writes. Moreover, "the aim of [his] book is to understand the relation be- tween truth and rhetoric in recent art criticism". But nowhere in the book is truth defined or even characterized; and neither is rhetoric, except-by im-
plication-as assertion the current
persuasiveness of which is not yet attributable to any consensus about its truth.
possible to see whether my claims are defensible. Ironically, the draft Brook
proposes for "a very different book" is one that would interest me. As I say in
my book, another "history ... might also be convincing; its success could
only be determined after it was worked out in as much detail as is my account" [8]. If I have inspired him to write such a book, perhaps I have accomplished something.
References
1. David Carrier, "On the Possibility of Aesthetic Atheism: Philosophy and the Market in Art", Leo- nardo 18, No. 1, 35-38 (1985); and Rudolf Arn- heim, "To the Rescue of Art", Editorial, Leonardo 19, No. 2,95-97 (1986).
2. See my "The Transfiguration of the Common- place: Caravaggio and His Interpreters", Word & Image 3, No. 1, 41-73 (1987); "Piero della Francesca and His Interpreters: Is There Progress in Art History?" History and Theory 26, No. 2, 150- 165 (1987); "Naturalism and Allegory in Flemish Painting", TheJournal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 45, No. 3, 237-249 (1987); "Manet and His Inter-
preters", Art History 8, 320-335 (1985); "Gavin Hamilton's Oath of Brutus and David's Oath of the Horatii. The Revisionist Interpretation of Neo- Classical Art", The Monist, forthcoming; and
"Tropics ofArtwriting: Wiinckelmann, Pater, Mo- relli and Freud", History of the Human Sciences, forthcoming.
3. David Carrier, Artwriting (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1987) pp. 37-41.
4. Carrier [3] pp. 6-9.
5. Carrier [3] p. 87.
6. The most distinguished such discussion is David Summers, TheJudgment of Sense. Renaissance Naturalism and the Rise of Aesthetics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987).
7. See Nelson Goodman, Languages andArt (Indi- anapolis and New York: The Bobbs-Merrill Com- pany, 1968) Ch. 4; and Norman Bryson, Word and Image. French Painting of the Ancien Regime (Cam- bridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981).
8. Carrier [3] p. 136.
A REJOINDER TO DAVID CARRIER
Donald Brook
David Carrier tells us that truth and rhetoric are distinct. "A good theory must be both true and persuasive", he writes. Moreover, "the aim of [his] book is to understand the relation be- tween truth and rhetoric in recent art criticism". But nowhere in the book is truth defined or even characterized; and neither is rhetoric, except-by im-
plication-as assertion the current
persuasiveness of which is not yet attributable to any consensus about its truth.
The deep question, of course, is whether those complex sets of claims
upon which judgements about art turn are persuasive because they are
The deep question, of course, is whether those complex sets of claims
upon which judgements about art turn are persuasive because they are
Brook, Review of Artwritingby David Carrier 199 Brook, Review of Artwritingby David Carrier 199
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