3
Leonardo The Social Context of Art by Jean Creedy Review by: Peter Lengyel Leonardo, Vol. 4, No. 3 (Summer, 1971), pp. 292-293 Published by: The MIT Press Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1572312 . Accessed: 13/06/2014 00:43 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp . JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected]. . The MIT Press and Leonardo are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Leonardo. http://www.jstor.org This content downloaded from 185.2.32.49 on Fri, 13 Jun 2014 00:43:27 AM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

The Social Context of Artby Jean Creedy

Embed Size (px)

Citation preview

Leonardo

The Social Context of Art by Jean CreedyReview by: Peter LengyelLeonardo, Vol. 4, No. 3 (Summer, 1971), pp. 292-293Published by: The MIT PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1572312 .

Accessed: 13/06/2014 00:43

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

The MIT Press and Leonardo are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access toLeonardo.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 185.2.32.49 on Fri, 13 Jun 2014 00:43:27 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

Books Books

'intelligentsia', from which one might expect most support, is often most implacable in its opposition to the avant-garde. Paradoxically, the most signifi- cant and practical support for the avant-garde comes from the capitalist bourgeoisie.

The typology of avant-gardism is succinctly catalogued by Poggioli-its nihilism, its destructive force, especially of self-destruction, its puerility, its infantilism. The first spasm of the revolt born in the cataclysm of the first world war, 'Dada', displayed all these features to the full. Turning its iconoclastic fury equally upon society, morality and art, it generated the spiritual and social ambiance condu- cive to fresh manifestations of l'esprit nouveau.

Alienation and rejection are the lot of the human condition, part of our zeitgeist. In a section of his book, entitled 'Agonism', Poggioli reminds us that writers, musicians and artists of the avant-garde can- not avoid their tragic destiny predicted by the 'philosophers of tragedy' from Pascal to Dostoevsky and must tread the 'path to perdition' offered by Rimbaud. 'God is dead', so all that remains is to celebrate 'death, flesh and the devil'.

Hopeless, too, is the fate of the avant-garde at the hands of political leaders. It is easy to comprehend the enmity of Hitler for what he called 'degenerate, Jewish art' but more difficult to understand is the blind hostility of the left-for all avant-gardism tends towards leftish ideologies in politics. Lenin above all expressed an implacable hatred for all forms of artistic extremism. Poggioli (in 1962) saw some evidence of a compromise between artists and politicians in Poland.

Society has as little sympathy for the avant-garde as the politician, for it clings to the false myth of a state of ideal conditions for both artists and patrons, which reputedly flourished during the Renaissance, and it will admit no change.

The alternatives for the artist are equally hopeless, he is doomed like Van Gogh to social suicide or, in an attempt to live with his alienation, is driven to assume the mask of caricature, to become a figure of mockery, a scapegoat for all of society's aesthetic sins of omission. Falsely expected to be a producer and professional, he is denied the regular clientele of the doctor and lawyer. Society tolerates him and is indifferent, and for the artist indifference is the kiss of death.

Social alienation demands also stylistic alienation, hence the fevered experimentation of avant-gardism, the unceasing attempts to extend the borders of artistic experience that have characterized the idea since the beginning.

Impressionism, Symbolism, Fauvism, Cubism, Futurism, Abstractionism and Surrealism are but a few of the better-known movements to take fire successively and burn furiously during the half century between 1870 and 1920. Poggioli is con- cerned only with the theory that animates them all. Readers interested in their individual methods and

'intelligentsia', from which one might expect most support, is often most implacable in its opposition to the avant-garde. Paradoxically, the most signifi- cant and practical support for the avant-garde comes from the capitalist bourgeoisie.

The typology of avant-gardism is succinctly catalogued by Poggioli-its nihilism, its destructive force, especially of self-destruction, its puerility, its infantilism. The first spasm of the revolt born in the cataclysm of the first world war, 'Dada', displayed all these features to the full. Turning its iconoclastic fury equally upon society, morality and art, it generated the spiritual and social ambiance condu- cive to fresh manifestations of l'esprit nouveau.

Alienation and rejection are the lot of the human condition, part of our zeitgeist. In a section of his book, entitled 'Agonism', Poggioli reminds us that writers, musicians and artists of the avant-garde can- not avoid their tragic destiny predicted by the 'philosophers of tragedy' from Pascal to Dostoevsky and must tread the 'path to perdition' offered by Rimbaud. 'God is dead', so all that remains is to celebrate 'death, flesh and the devil'.

Hopeless, too, is the fate of the avant-garde at the hands of political leaders. It is easy to comprehend the enmity of Hitler for what he called 'degenerate, Jewish art' but more difficult to understand is the blind hostility of the left-for all avant-gardism tends towards leftish ideologies in politics. Lenin above all expressed an implacable hatred for all forms of artistic extremism. Poggioli (in 1962) saw some evidence of a compromise between artists and politicians in Poland.

Society has as little sympathy for the avant-garde as the politician, for it clings to the false myth of a state of ideal conditions for both artists and patrons, which reputedly flourished during the Renaissance, and it will admit no change.

The alternatives for the artist are equally hopeless, he is doomed like Van Gogh to social suicide or, in an attempt to live with his alienation, is driven to assume the mask of caricature, to become a figure of mockery, a scapegoat for all of society's aesthetic sins of omission. Falsely expected to be a producer and professional, he is denied the regular clientele of the doctor and lawyer. Society tolerates him and is indifferent, and for the artist indifference is the kiss of death.

Social alienation demands also stylistic alienation, hence the fevered experimentation of avant-gardism, the unceasing attempts to extend the borders of artistic experience that have characterized the idea since the beginning.

Impressionism, Symbolism, Fauvism, Cubism, Futurism, Abstractionism and Surrealism are but a few of the better-known movements to take fire successively and burn furiously during the half century between 1870 and 1920. Poggioli is con- cerned only with the theory that animates them all. Readers interested in their individual methods and products must seek this information elsewhere.

The effect of most of the movements of the avant- garde has been to dehumanise artistic expression

products must seek this information elsewhere. The effect of most of the movements of the avant-

garde has been to dehumanise artistic expression

and the worship of science during the present century has served only to increase this tendency. Under the heading of 'scientificatism' the professor quotes the recurring taste for ambiguous and equivocal scientific metaphors, the bizarre numerology and the esoteric cults of the machine, so characteristic of the movement.

He concludes his monumental survey with a few maxims for critics today, which everyone concerned with avant-gardism could take to heart. First, they must be aware of the zeitgeist in which the artist functions. They must be capable of reconstructing his ambiance and offer an intelligent interpretation of his environment before they turn their attention to his works of art. Then they must speak out fear- lessly, regardless of the risk that they may themselves be equated with the bourgeoisie should they dare to be truly critical. Above all, they must be on their guard lest they prove themselves more recondite and occult than the creations they criticize.

Yet Poggioli is conscious of the layman's dilemma in all this and, good critic that he is, he offers reassurance that there is an aesthetic universal to be elucidated and that tradition need not be defended as a fortress of aesthetic values, for tradition itself is always in a continuous process of change and reformation.

A poet of the left himself, a dedicated admirer of Rimbaud, Poggioli does not share that poet's negation, I'art est une sottise-for all our sakes, I hope he is right.

The Social Context of Art. Edited by Jean Creedy. Tavistock Publications, London, 1970. 217 pp., ?2.25. Reviewed by: Peter Lengyel*

Here are eleven papers mostly relating rather narrowly to the specific situation of the arts and art education in Britain. Jean Creedy's short intro- duction sets the tone by emphasizing the cozily local character of the symposium. It is confirmed especi- ally by Ralph Berry on patronage (the Arts Council, local authorities, educational institutions, founda- tions, industry) and by Christopher Cornford who casts his contribution in the form of a letter calling for a fundamental re-appraisal of current assump- tions about education and academic government in British art colleges.

Several of the other contributions run along dispiritingly familiar and pedestrian lines. Z. Barbu on sociological perspectives in art and literature starts out badly by asserting that 'the first task of the sociology of art is to locate a work of art in the structure of society. One of the most usual ways of doing this is by relating it to the social class of its author'. A little later, however, he admits that the sociologist 'has often to deal with societies in which classes do not exist'. Quite so. Then why select this category? And why maintain that 'the term

and the worship of science during the present century has served only to increase this tendency. Under the heading of 'scientificatism' the professor quotes the recurring taste for ambiguous and equivocal scientific metaphors, the bizarre numerology and the esoteric cults of the machine, so characteristic of the movement.

He concludes his monumental survey with a few maxims for critics today, which everyone concerned with avant-gardism could take to heart. First, they must be aware of the zeitgeist in which the artist functions. They must be capable of reconstructing his ambiance and offer an intelligent interpretation of his environment before they turn their attention to his works of art. Then they must speak out fear- lessly, regardless of the risk that they may themselves be equated with the bourgeoisie should they dare to be truly critical. Above all, they must be on their guard lest they prove themselves more recondite and occult than the creations they criticize.

Yet Poggioli is conscious of the layman's dilemma in all this and, good critic that he is, he offers reassurance that there is an aesthetic universal to be elucidated and that tradition need not be defended as a fortress of aesthetic values, for tradition itself is always in a continuous process of change and reformation.

A poet of the left himself, a dedicated admirer of Rimbaud, Poggioli does not share that poet's negation, I'art est une sottise-for all our sakes, I hope he is right.

The Social Context of Art. Edited by Jean Creedy. Tavistock Publications, London, 1970. 217 pp., ?2.25. Reviewed by: Peter Lengyel*

Here are eleven papers mostly relating rather narrowly to the specific situation of the arts and art education in Britain. Jean Creedy's short intro- duction sets the tone by emphasizing the cozily local character of the symposium. It is confirmed especi- ally by Ralph Berry on patronage (the Arts Council, local authorities, educational institutions, founda- tions, industry) and by Christopher Cornford who casts his contribution in the form of a letter calling for a fundamental re-appraisal of current assump- tions about education and academic government in British art colleges.

Several of the other contributions run along dispiritingly familiar and pedestrian lines. Z. Barbu on sociological perspectives in art and literature starts out badly by asserting that 'the first task of the sociology of art is to locate a work of art in the structure of society. One of the most usual ways of doing this is by relating it to the social class of its author'. A little later, however, he admits that the sociologist 'has often to deal with societies in which classes do not exist'. Quite so. Then why select this category? And why maintain that 'the term "culture" defies any brief and, indeed, any commonly "culture" defies any brief and, indeed, any commonly

* 4 Villa Dietz-Monnin, 75-Paris 16, France. * 4 Villa Dietz-Monnin, 75-Paris 16, France.

292 292

This content downloaded from 185.2.32.49 on Fri, 13 Jun 2014 00:43:27 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

Books Books

accepted definition' when dictionaries of social science offer operationally perfectly adequate definitions. Why make matters more complicated than they really are ?

Edward Lucie-Smith, Michael Tree and Stanley Reed contribute fairly standard pieces respectively on current social trends in contemporary art, industrial design, the film-maker and the audience. The burden of their argument is the reciprocal relationship between creators, audience or clients and the wider society in recent historical perspective. The only non-British contributor, Gyorgy Kepes, puts forward a rather interesting proposal for the formation of a closely knit work community of promising young artists and designers, each commit- ted to some specific role to overcome the artist's lack of orientation in the contemporary world. Dennis Gabor, a scientist well-known for his work on predicting innovations, worries about what people will do with their increasing leisure and arrives, via the population explosion, urban aesthetics, controlled economic growth and the dead hand of advancing technology, at the con- clusion that we must pin our hopes in the revival of hobbies, craftsmanship for its own sake and amateur artistic expression. Edward Adamson's essay on art for mental health is at an even more specifically therapeutic level. Perhaps the broadest view is presented by H. R. Kedward who, after briefly surveying the heterogeneity of modern art and its creators, concludes that 'there is a need for sensitive caution in the intellectual approach to modern art. But such caution should not sap imagination and it does not invalidate search for meaning. What is unlikely to emerge is a coherent picture of twentieth-century man, for there is no such coherence in his art.'

Two things may be said about this collection. First, it is a great shame that only a single practising artist is to be found expressing his point of view amongst all these teachers, critics and administrators. Must we assume that artists are either so tongue- tied or so incoherent that they cannot be admitted into the decent company of such pundits as can advance a well-turned case, though they may never have laid brush to canvas or bow to string ? Secondly, it seems, to say the least, surprising that the crisis of modern art, which by now has a history going back at least half a century or more, appears here for all the world as if it had just broken out the other day. Do we really need to be told that 'modern art has never existed in isolation from the rest of society' or 'that the modern artist does not always seem very happily adjusted to the society in which he lives, to the point where his actions begin to fit certain standard patterns of psychological maladjustment'? Could not we take that as read and, if we have to elaborate any further on the theme, come out with something a little more incisively sophisticated? Maybe that strange animal, art, is deadly sick, in

accepted definition' when dictionaries of social science offer operationally perfectly adequate definitions. Why make matters more complicated than they really are ?

Edward Lucie-Smith, Michael Tree and Stanley Reed contribute fairly standard pieces respectively on current social trends in contemporary art, industrial design, the film-maker and the audience. The burden of their argument is the reciprocal relationship between creators, audience or clients and the wider society in recent historical perspective. The only non-British contributor, Gyorgy Kepes, puts forward a rather interesting proposal for the formation of a closely knit work community of promising young artists and designers, each commit- ted to some specific role to overcome the artist's lack of orientation in the contemporary world. Dennis Gabor, a scientist well-known for his work on predicting innovations, worries about what people will do with their increasing leisure and arrives, via the population explosion, urban aesthetics, controlled economic growth and the dead hand of advancing technology, at the con- clusion that we must pin our hopes in the revival of hobbies, craftsmanship for its own sake and amateur artistic expression. Edward Adamson's essay on art for mental health is at an even more specifically therapeutic level. Perhaps the broadest view is presented by H. R. Kedward who, after briefly surveying the heterogeneity of modern art and its creators, concludes that 'there is a need for sensitive caution in the intellectual approach to modern art. But such caution should not sap imagination and it does not invalidate search for meaning. What is unlikely to emerge is a coherent picture of twentieth-century man, for there is no such coherence in his art.'

Two things may be said about this collection. First, it is a great shame that only a single practising artist is to be found expressing his point of view amongst all these teachers, critics and administrators. Must we assume that artists are either so tongue- tied or so incoherent that they cannot be admitted into the decent company of such pundits as can advance a well-turned case, though they may never have laid brush to canvas or bow to string ? Secondly, it seems, to say the least, surprising that the crisis of modern art, which by now has a history going back at least half a century or more, appears here for all the world as if it had just broken out the other day. Do we really need to be told that 'modern art has never existed in isolation from the rest of society' or 'that the modern artist does not always seem very happily adjusted to the society in which he lives, to the point where his actions begin to fit certain standard patterns of psychological maladjustment'? Could not we take that as read and, if we have to elaborate any further on the theme, come out with something a little more incisively sophisticated? Maybe that strange animal, art, is deadly sick, in which case it might be humane to put it out of its misery. Maybe it is the only healthy element in society, full of impulses and rearing to go, in which

21

which case it might be humane to put it out of its misery. Maybe it is the only healthy element in society, full of impulses and rearing to go, in which

21

case let it speak up. But in any case let us not choke it with goodwill and chit-chat.

The Indignant Eye. The Artist as Social Critic in Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to Picasso. Ralph E. Shikes. Beacon Press, Boston, 1969. 439 pp., illus. Reviewed by Gabriel P. Weisberg*

The author presents a broad canvas of artists involved with the social problems and ills of their societies from the fifteenth century until contempo- rary times. The text is exceptionally literate and provides a stirring panorama from which a reader can gain immediate insight into the social difficulties of a specific period and learn how the artists of a time reacted to them. Tracing social awareness in prints and drawings by Pieter Bruegel, Albrecht Diirer, Jacques Callot, William Hogarth, George Cruikshank, Honore Daumier, Felix Vallotton, James Ensor, George Grosz, Otto Dix, Ben Shahn, Jose Orozco and Pablo Picasso, as well as scores more, one is constantly reminded that each historical period was beset by dark troubles that did not fail to move the emotions and consciences of some of history's finest artists.

It is a tribute to Shikes' liberal viewpoint that the 'intensity' of the artistic image has been presented with care and subtle analysis in order to place the work within the period that produced it. Since many prints are concerned with the horrors of war, from Callto's etchings to the images of Goya to the prints of George Grosz and Max Beckmann, a definite point of view can be discerned beneath the surface of the book. However, this theme, while it is ever- present, does not overwhelm a reader nor prevent him from appreciating all types of social protest art, including many prints from the pages of The Masses, a magazine that appeared in America from 1912- 1917. Indeed, the range of selections that the author has made, from the vast outpourings since the fifteenth century, has been carried out with taste and a sharp eye.

One of Shikes' finest chapters is his examination of the prints of Daumier and of his contemporaries. In this section, Daumier is compared with the other printmakers, including Auguste Raffet and Grand- ville, who criticized the regimes and classes in France. But it is the breadth of Daumier's vision, his ability to create majestic works of art, as well as to comment on an historical event or personage, that he is able to make appropriately clear through an excellent selection of well-known and unknown examples of art. With such a firm grasp of history and art presented to a reader, the book becomes eminently usable for conveying social tendencies and ideas to college students. In fact, one should not hesitate to use it to stimulate discussion on numerous topical issues in order to reveal how

case let it speak up. But in any case let us not choke it with goodwill and chit-chat.

The Indignant Eye. The Artist as Social Critic in Prints and Drawings from the Fifteenth Century to Picasso. Ralph E. Shikes. Beacon Press, Boston, 1969. 439 pp., illus. Reviewed by Gabriel P. Weisberg*

The author presents a broad canvas of artists involved with the social problems and ills of their societies from the fifteenth century until contempo- rary times. The text is exceptionally literate and provides a stirring panorama from which a reader can gain immediate insight into the social difficulties of a specific period and learn how the artists of a time reacted to them. Tracing social awareness in prints and drawings by Pieter Bruegel, Albrecht Diirer, Jacques Callot, William Hogarth, George Cruikshank, Honore Daumier, Felix Vallotton, James Ensor, George Grosz, Otto Dix, Ben Shahn, Jose Orozco and Pablo Picasso, as well as scores more, one is constantly reminded that each historical period was beset by dark troubles that did not fail to move the emotions and consciences of some of history's finest artists.

It is a tribute to Shikes' liberal viewpoint that the 'intensity' of the artistic image has been presented with care and subtle analysis in order to place the work within the period that produced it. Since many prints are concerned with the horrors of war, from Callto's etchings to the images of Goya to the prints of George Grosz and Max Beckmann, a definite point of view can be discerned beneath the surface of the book. However, this theme, while it is ever- present, does not overwhelm a reader nor prevent him from appreciating all types of social protest art, including many prints from the pages of The Masses, a magazine that appeared in America from 1912- 1917. Indeed, the range of selections that the author has made, from the vast outpourings since the fifteenth century, has been carried out with taste and a sharp eye.

One of Shikes' finest chapters is his examination of the prints of Daumier and of his contemporaries. In this section, Daumier is compared with the other printmakers, including Auguste Raffet and Grand- ville, who criticized the regimes and classes in France. But it is the breadth of Daumier's vision, his ability to create majestic works of art, as well as to comment on an historical event or personage, that he is able to make appropriately clear through an excellent selection of well-known and unknown examples of art. With such a firm grasp of history and art presented to a reader, the book becomes eminently usable for conveying social tendencies and ideas to college students. In fact, one should not hesitate to use it to stimulate discussion on numerous topical issues in order to reveal how

* Department of Art History, College of Design, Architec- ture and Art, University of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio 45221, U.S.A.

* Department of Art History, College of Design, Architec- ture and Art, University of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio 45221, U.S.A.

293 293

This content downloaded from 185.2.32.49 on Fri, 13 Jun 2014 00:43:27 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions