The reading stated that we can view scenes in art that would otherwise disgust us in real life.
Art has a way of deminishing the effects of reality. An example of this dulling effect is when someone sees murder scene, other then people who are use to the image, they are taken by shock, emotions of sadness, and fear. But when observed in a movie p.eople are calm when they see the image; content with the graphic content.
I have witness some people who play games so much that when they see a crisis on the news, instead of being concerned with the issues of the current cirsumstance, they are recalling a game they played, and even go as far as saying these crises are cool; ignorant to fact that the report is live and in real time.
While people enjoy art and all of uniqueness some experience a negative side effect.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Telvin Harrell: Art as Redemption
Friedrich Nietzsche view art as an escape of the world. Art he sees as soemthing to makr life, which is terrible, bearable.
Others would agree that yes life can be terrible and is all to often filled with things that are not right and crimes that go unpunished. But some people would disagree that the escape of such a thing is art. Earlier today I was visited by two Jehovah's witnesses in front of my house. The watch tower magazine that I was given asked the question what is the key to a meaningful life; the answer is Jehovah.
Athough nietzsche would disagree wtih the fact that religion could be the key to a meaningful life and the escape of the horrors of reality, being that he is an atheist; is he replacing the religious aspect of his life with Art?
Others would agree that yes life can be terrible and is all to often filled with things that are not right and crimes that go unpunished. But some people would disagree that the escape of such a thing is art. Earlier today I was visited by two Jehovah's witnesses in front of my house. The watch tower magazine that I was given asked the question what is the key to a meaningful life; the answer is Jehovah.
Athough nietzsche would disagree wtih the fact that religion could be the key to a meaningful life and the escape of the horrors of reality, being that he is an atheist; is he replacing the religious aspect of his life with Art?
Vincent - Hegel's Aesthetics
I
liked Hegel when we first got to know him because of his theory that there is
much more going on, and it begins with the sensuous. Eventually that sensuous
speaks to our soul because of this endorphin-driven sort of ecstasy where we
lose ourselves. I was going to do my original project on hegel and how music is
a purely sensual experience that beckons the soul to something greater, but I
found it difficult for me to work with just sounds and nothing mental like
words or images. I think this sort of sentiment on music and the soul has been
held widely for a very long time, so Hegel’s theory could hold true for many
people throughout many generations.
Vincent- Heidegger's On the Way to Language
While looking up theories for my
final paper I was suggested to look at Heidegger’s book On the Way to Language. It sounded quite complicated to me when I
first heard it and indeed it was when I first read it. And the second, third
fourth, so on and so forth. I had a lot of problems working through it before I
decided it wasn’t for me. He seemed
to be constructing a theory of language
as the very nature of being because of his famous phrase “Language is the house
of Being.” But
how can Language be the house of Being? This sort of reading left me with more
questions than answers, but perhaps that is for the best.
Vincent- Ingenium and Grassi
I
really like the lecture we had on Ernesto Grassi and his notion of ingenium, so
I read outside of class a little more. His book “The Rhetoric of Philosophy”
meshed well with the way I approach things because he Rhetoric is often separated
from Philosophy. As a communications major, I felt somewhat obliged to agree with
him on this sentiment. He referenced an Italian humanist philosopher named Vico
and brought up the idea of ingenium. Ingenium, as I understood it, portrayed
the concept that shows how humans learn about and create nature through
discovering or seeing something. It is more of a revelation of truth which I
found interesting, and perhaps sheds light on the creative process of some
poets and artists.
Vincent- Heidegger
Heidegger sees art as holistically
as possible. He believes it is not just the object, but the representation of
that object, creator of the object, co creators and everything there. The way I
interpret it, in viewing art in this way, it encompasses the spectator much
more and shows, in my opinion, a more modern view of art. In the Digital age,
sharing is a major part of creation, and therefore to view art as a communal
function and process would be accommodating to the nature of sharing in today’s
society. I think this theory on art is a useful way for people to see objects
of art in a manner they would not typically, that means including all the
context, all the creators, and all of the message that comes with it.
Vincent - Nietzsche
Nietzcshe saw art and the quality
of an object of art to be subject to the perspective of who ever is in
observation. This conception of art
offers a much wider variety of possibilities than some of the others we have seen.
In a Nietzcshian understanding, art can be found more commonly because man is
then creator and appreciator of art. I
like this sort of thinking because it is more empowering to the population, and
most likely encourages more of a widespread expression of art. We are all
artists. This is an idea that I think
should be spread more widely and perhaps
Vincent - Heidegeer holistic view at a concert
Heidegger looked at Art holistically and then continued with
the audience. I am gonna throw this out there and if you don’t like it you can
send it right on back. I thin k Heidegger would hae thoroughly enjoyed going to
a live performance, possibly Beyonce (pronouncd BAY-auns) but more likely I
think a more traditional one such as Bruce Springsteen. These are performers
who are creating in the moment an art, and engage the audience as they are
doing so. The whole experience is beautiful and I don’t think there are many
people who leave Bruce Springsteen concerts upset about it. It’s unique especially in the sense that an
artist and audience are doing something new every single time and it can be a
different experience regardless of how often you have been to that concert or
seen that artist.
Vincent - Poetry
I’m choosing poetry as one of my
reflection blogs because of the role it has played throughout my life. For much
of my life I didn’t pay much attention to it. Poetry always seemed boring, and
frivolous to me. Too much work for no real reason. I suppose the reason was for
some sort of “moral understanding” or some kind of “Inner revelation,” but
these things didn’t interest adolescent Me. But now as I reflect on it in the
context of this class, I really enjoy the potential poetry has on our lives,
and how important it really is. It reveals the commonalities of man and truths
unseen to most. Studying poetry and different poets also teaches about
different modes of thinking and unique ideas, somethings that are often missing
in our popular culture.
Vincent - Artistry in Sport
We
argue very often that dance is a form of art, and there is no doubt about that.
And for that reason I think there is
also artistry to be found in sports. Perhaps that’s because I like Nietzcshe or I’m just a guy who likes sports. But
applying some thought of beauty and how it can be subject to Man’s perspective-
there is artistry in it. The highly calculated movement with minimal
communication as they compete for one objective is wholly unique every time its
created. Creativity in sports is artistry. A creative player sees what is not
seen by most and acknowledges the wide scope of possibility in order to outwit
the opposition. When several players are creative on one pitch, court, rink, or
field, there is synergistic beauty in that.
Vincent - Hegel and Poe
I ended
up changing the topic of my research paper because I grew restless with it. I
realized that I needed some kind of more literal communicative property and I
could find that in words, so I turned to a poet. The only collection of poems I
own in my house is this massive Edgar Allan Poe collected works because I
always thought he was cool in this deranged unique way. And He’s from the East
Coast. When I was studying him and deciding what theory it would be interesting
to apply to him I was surprised to find much of his writings about the actual creative
process and his philosophies on it. Most
importantly, Poe wrote exclusively for his audience and proclaimed very often
that his aim was to make something beautiful in its ornate detail and artistry.
Taylor Macina - Class Discussion 5
Class Discussion: Co-Creators
In class we discussed how the artist is the creator who
makes the artifact which in turn becomes the co-creator. The audience then
views the artifact and act as spectators and co-creators. How are they
co-creators? For example, a comedian changes sets based on audience reaction. Performers
tap into the audience to influence both pieces and themselves. The way a
spectator views something can give it added meaning through interpretation. The
artifact itself can take on a life of its own by becoming a co-creator. It has
an effect on both artist and audience. The symbolic action or art creates the
second world which supersedes the primary world.
Taylor Macina - Class Discussion 4
Class Discussion:
I-You and I-It
In class today we discussed the difference between I-You
being the basic word as a world of encounter with you not being an object .
I-it was the basic word as the objective world and as a world of experience. We
also discussed the idea of the “other” being both object and being. In I-You, “I”
represents the human and “You” represents the other; in I-It, “I” represents
the human whereas “It” represents the extra-human or not human element. An
artist creates an artifact that is then viewed by an audience. How does an
artifact take on a life of its own? For example in the movie “Lincoln”, what
did the director/author intend? Other actors bring something different to the
movie. The intentions and points that both director and actor are trying to get
across may not be what the audience grasps.
Taylor Macina - Class Discussion 3
Class Discussion: Ritual to Art
In class today we watch a clip of Englishmen watching natives
dancing. The Englishmen simply stared at the native women who were dancing while
completely immersed in the ritual of the dance. After watching the clip we
discussed the difference of watching an art form versus performing the art form.
What happens when the Natives perform a dance for tourists? Does it change the
meaning of the performance? Does paying natives to perform something, such as
hula, mean that the ritual loses meaning? If tourists are watching a spectacle
does that still mean it is art?
Taylor Macina - Class Discussion 2
Class Discussion: Phenomenology
Phenomenology is the study of the structures of
consciousness as experienced by someone in the first person view. In class we
discussed examples of phenomenology. One example we discussed is the difference
between explaining how a car works versus what it means to you. For example to
mechanics cars are their life. Cars can also be an identity for a person or a
sentimental gift. We discussed how we look to returning to things such as
concrete experiences rather than abstract ideas. We long to have intentionality
so that we are able to have consciousness of something.
Taylor Macina - Class Discussion 1
Class Discussion: Symbolic Action
In class we discussed regular versus symbolic action.
Symbolic action means that the action itself stands for or means something. An
example to help define this is washing hands to clean versus Pilot in the Bible
washing his hands to be done of persecuting Jesus. Symbolic action leads to
abstraction as well. For example ritual dance is often symbolic of the hunt. As
soon as you forget the symbolic action it is just a dance. For example hula
dancing is just a dance to most people but it is symbolic action for Hawaiians.
Taylor Macina - Outside Source 5
Outside Source: Leonardo da Vinci
Here is a quote that spoke to me:
“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and
poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.”
― Leonardo da Vinci
I find this quote to mean that an artist has a story in
their mind which elicits the painting to be created. By viewing the painting,
one can imagine the story being told. It is similar to the famous phrase “a
painting is worth a thousand words”. Poetry, on the other hand, is words that
paint a picture in your mind. It allows the viewer to be creative and engage
the use of their imagination.
Taylor Macina - Outside Source 4
Outside Source: Thomas Merton
I found this quote I really enjoyed:
“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the
same time.”
-
Thomas Merton
This quote really spoke to me because this is how I feel
when I dance. Dance is a way for me to express myself because it takes over my
body. The music and the movement captivate me and I am unable to concentrate,
focus, or think about anything else that may possibly be going on in my life
until the routine is over or the song ceases to play. Van de Leeuw says that, “dance
is the expression of all emotions of the spirit, from the lowest to the highest”
(Leeuw 12). Dance is a part of me and I would use it to help define who I am.
My love of dance comes from somewhere deep within me.
Taylor Macina - Outside Source 3
Outside Source: Oscar Wilde
I found another quote that I really enjoyed:
” No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he
did, he would cease to be an artist.”
-
Oscar Wilde
I found this to be really interesting because it follows the
belief that art is simply a copy of a copy. When artists create objects of art
they are unable to do so in a realistic sense because they incorporate their
own emotions and feelings into the art piece. Therefore they do not actually
present art in the way that it is in its purest form. This quote makes sense to
me completely. When I think of an artist I think of someone who is incredibly
creative and imaginative. If it was possible for artists to draw something just
as it is then that would eliminate their creativity and imagination.
Imagination would cease to exist and therefore so would the artist.
Taylor Macina - Outside Source 2
Outside Source: Hula
Art can be described as many different things. It can be
more than an understanding but a part of your body. This particular art, the
art of dance, speaks to me. Society as a whole often allows their body to be
taken over by the sound of music and by continuing to listen to music their
body continues to move to the rhythm and the beat. Certain music can provoke
certain memories which elicit particular feelings which influence the way in
which a person dances. Hula dancing is a prime example. The art of Hula dance
has morphed into more of a source of entertainment for tourists, however it was
not always that way. Hula dancing is a type of poetic text called Mele. All the
movement, expressive hand and arm gestures are interpreted and performed to
rhythmic twisting and swirling on the basis of this text. Each move has a
specific meaning and is performed at a specific time of day or time of year.
Tourism however changes the uniqueness of the dance. It allows and expects the
Hula dancers to in turn become performers rather than honor the memory of their
ancestors. Tourism changes the ritual art of a dance to modern art which is
then viewed as a spectacle.
Taylor Macina - Outside Source 1
Outside Source: Aristotle
I stumbled upon this quote the other day that I thought was
interesting and I would like to share:
“The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of
things, but their inward significance”
- Aristotle
I found this quote to be interesting because it follows his
philosophy that art is a representation of something. This representation allows
us to experience pleasure. I find this similar to a tattoo. Yes of course
tattoos are artistic in their design. There are so many complex and intricate tattoos
that they are often really cool to look at. However, most people decide to get
a tattoo in order for it to represent something that is significant to them. A
lot of the time the meaning has nothing to do with the physical appearance of
the tattoo. My best friend was diagnosed with an eating disorder and had to be
admitted to a treatment facility. After successfully graduating the treatment
facility, she tattooed a symbol of a heart with a line extending on the side.
The heart itself is a really amazing design however the reason she got it was
not because the design was intriguing but rather because it was a symbol to her
to remind her of the hell she went through during treatment and the success she
acquired by completing her treatment program.
Taylor Macina - Reading 5
Book: Art as Revelation: Arthur Schopenhauer
Schopenhauer believes that art reveals the nature of reality
and by doing so gives access to metaphysical truths about existence. He says
that world revealed to us every day is purely representation governed by
individuation being that each person or object is purely distinct from each
other. Unlike Kant’s claim that reality is unable to be known by humans,
Schopenhauer believes that we are able to access reality through our own wills.
This idea emphasizes that reality consists of nothing but persistence in
striving for something and that the actual world around us is a mere illusion.
He believes that at the center of art is genius. This genius is necessary for
both artistic creation and appreciation. He believes that, “the art object
cannot represent things in their usual mode of existence”. All art presents
ideas rather than things, with the exception of music.
Taylor Macina - Reading 4
Book: Art as Communicable Pleasure: Immanuel Kant
Kant believes that all acts of mental cognition are
essentially judgments. That saying something like “the sunset is beautiful”
does nothing to enhance your understanding of it but simply just explains your
feelings and interpretation of something. By making statements like this it
shows our perception of how the object or situation is affecting us. Kant
questions how this judgment about our feelings can have objective validity. He
further explains this by arguing that saying “the sunset is beautiful” is “saying
more than it appeals to me, claiming also in effect that the sunset’s beauty is
there for all to see” (Wartenberg 47). Unlike Hume’s belief that certain
qualities elicit pleasure in all humans, Kant argues that this does not justify
the belief in objects have normative force. He says that by saying the sunset
is beautiful we not only expect people to agree with us but rather believe that
they should.
Taylor Macina - Reading 3
Book: Art as Object of Taste: David Hume
Hume grounds his argument in two ways. One way he says that
people believe it is possible to make critical judgments of the quality of a
work of art. On the other hand, he also says that his idea of antimony is what
grounds these judgments. Wartenberg used an example of the Mona Lisa itself
compared to an illustration by Rockwell. The general agreement is that da Vinci’s
original is significantly better. Hume then reasons that a critical judgment of
something is nothing more than an idiosyncratic reaction to a work. This
contradicts his first conclusion that there needs to be a standard in order to
judge a work. He explains this contradiction of his conclusions can happen
because certain elements of art are pleasurable to everyone.
Taylor Macina - Reading 2
Book: Art as Cognition: Aristotle
Aristotle was taught by Plato and therefore grasped onto
some of his theories. Such as the conception of art as imitation; however,
Aristotle also introduced a new term entitled representation. He describes
poetry to be a literary representation. He sees all art such as music, dance,
literature, painting and sculpture as being representations. He believes that
poetry represents not the actual world but things that could be in the world.
By representing something we find pleasure in the art. He believes that we find
pleasure because the art is not reality and we are therefore not disgusted. For
example, Wartenberg uses Oedipus and his eyes being gouged out. If that had
been reality, we would find disgust rather than pleasure watching the
spectacle. We learn from Oedipus and therefore can take in pleasure. He
emphasizes arts ability to teach.
Taylor Macina - Reading 1
Book: Art as Imitation: Plato
Plato’s theory of art states that art is an imitation of an
imitation. However, it also depends on his theory of forms. His philosopher-hero
Socrates believed that, “artistic creations – paintings and poems – stand triply
removed from the real; that is, there are two realms of existence more real than
art objects, the Forms themselves, and the things of daily life” (Wartenberg
13). He believed that the goal of art was to imitate something. Artists are
less attuned to reality than craftsmen. Craftsmen are copying the form whereas artists
are copying the copy. By arguing that art is simply the copy of a form it
distracts the viewer from the reality. When an artist paints the picture of a
landscape they are not only copying the landscape but incorporating their own
feelings so the painting cannot be seen as a reality.
Brian Koonce: Playing Sports as an Art
Nietzsche's category of art that he calls Apolline most certainly applies to the skill with which it takes to play sports. Apolline art is characterized by a higher sense of truth or consciousness, and although usually pertaining to static forms of art, I believe it can apply to performing athletic feats as well. In practices and games, a player must clear their head of all else but the ins and outs of the game; what they need to do, what their teammates will be doing, what the other team will be doing; an example of the higher consciousness about which Nietzsche writes is the ability of an athlete to know all these things while at the same time controlling their body while it performs athletic feats about which most people can only dream.
Zakiya Cummings- Beauty of Our Friendship Poem
Beauty of Our Friendship
Friendship is a Priceless Gift
that cannot be bought or sold,
But its value is far greater
than a mountain made of Gold.
For gold is cold and lifeless,
it can neither see nor hear
And in the time of trouble
it is powerless to cheer--
it has no ears to listen
Nor heart to understand,
It cannot bring you comfort
or reach out a helping hand
So when you ask God for a gift
be thankful if HE sends
not diamonds, pearls or riches
But The Love of Real True Friends.
- Helen Steiner Rice -
Zakiya Cummings-THE SENSE OF BEAUTY BEING THE OUTLINES OF AESTHETIC THEORY by GEORGE SANTAYANA
This is the introduction of a book that I read.. it talks about some things that we've talked about in class
INTRODUCTION
The sense of beauty has a more important place in life than aesthetic theory has ever taken in philosophy. The plastic arts, with poetry and music, are the most conspicuous monuments of this human interest, because they appeal only to contemplation, and yet have attracted to their service, in all civilized ages, an amount of effort, genius, and honour, little inferior to that given to industry, war, or religion. The fine arts, however, where aesthetic feeling appears almost pure, are by no means the only sphere in which men show their susceptibility to beauty. In all products of human industry we notice the keenness with which the eye is attracted to the mere appearance of things: great sacrifices of time and labour are made to it in the most vulgar manufactures; nor does man select his dwelling, his clothes, or his companions without reference to their effect on his aesthetic senses. Of late we have even learned that the forms of many animals are due to the survival by sexual selection of the colours and forms most attractive to the eye. There must therefore be in our nature a very radical and wide-spread tendency to observe beauty, and to value it. No account of the principles of the mind can be at all adequate that passes over so conspicuous a faculty.
That aesthetic theory has received so little attention from the world is not due to the unimportance of the subject of which it treats, but rather to lack of an adequate motive for speculating upon it, and to the small success of the occasional efforts to deal with it. Absolute curiosity, and love of comprehension for its own sake, are not passions we have much leisure to indulge: they require not only freedom from affairs but, what is more rare, freedom from prepossessions and from the hatred of all ideas that do not make for the habitual goal of our thought.
Now, what has chiefly maintained such speculation as the world has seen has been either theological passion or practical use. All we find, for example, written about beauty may be divided into two groups: that group of writings in which philosophers have interpreted aesthetic facts in the light of their metaphysical principles, and made of their theory of taste a corollary or footnote to their systems; and that group in which artists and critics have ventured into philosophic ground, by generalizing somewhat the maxims of the craft or the comments of the sensitive observer. A treatment of the subject at once direct and theoretic has been very rare: the problems of nature and morals have attracted the reasoners, and the description and creation of beauty have absorbed the artists; between the two reflection upon aesthetic experience has remained abortive or incoherent.
A circumstance that has also contributed to the absence or to the failure of aesthetic speculation is the subjectivity of the phenomenon with which it deals. Man has a prejudice against himself: anything which is a product of his mind seems to him to be unreal or comparatively insignificant. We are satisfied only when we fancy ourselves surrounded by objects and laws independent of our nature. The ancients long speculated about the constitution of the universe before they became aware of that mind which is the instrument of all speculation. The moderns, also, even within the field of psychology, have studied first the function of perception and the theory of knowledge, by which we seem to be informed about external things; they have in comparison neglected the exclusively subjective and human department of imagination and emotion. We have still to recognize in practice the truth that from these despised feelings of ours the great world of perception derives all its value, if not also its existence. Things are interesting because we care about them, and important because we need them. Had our perceptions no connexion with our pleasures, we should soon close our eyes on this world; if our intelligence were of no service to our passions, we should come to doubt, in the lazy freedom of reverie, whether two and two make four.
Yet so strong is the popular sense of the unworthiness and insignificance of things purely emotional, that those who have taken moral problems to heart and felt their dignity have often been led into attempts to discover some external right and beauty of which, our moral and aesthetic feelings should be perceptions or discoveries, just as our intellectual activity is, in men's opinion, a perception or discovery of external fact. These philosophers seem to feel that unless moral and aesthetic judgments are expressions of objective truth, and not merely expressions of human nature, they stand condemned of hopeless triviality. A judgment is not trivial, however, because it rests on human feelings; on the contrary, triviality consists in abstraction from human interests; only those judgments and opinions are truly insignificant which wander beyond the reach of verification, and have no function in the ordering and enriching of life.
Both ethics and aesthetics have suffered much from the prejudice against the subjective. They have not suffered more because both have a subject-matter which is partly objective. Ethics deals with conduct as much as with emotion, and therefore considers the causes of events and their consequences as well as our judgments of their value. Esthetics also is apt to include the history and philosophy of art, and to add much descriptive and critical matter to the theory of our susceptibility to beauty. A certain confusion is thereby introduced into these inquiries, but at the same time the discussion is enlivened by excursions into neighbouring provinces, perhaps more interesting to the general reader.
We may, however, distinguish three distinct elements of ethics and aesthetics, and three different ways of approaching the subject. The first is the exercise of the moral or aesthetic faculty itself, the actual pronouncing of judgment and giving of praise, blame, and precept. This is not a matter of science but of character, enthusiasm, niceness of perception, and fineness of emotion. It is aesthetic or moral activity, while ethics and aesthetics, as sciences, are intellectual activities, having that aesthetic or moral activity for their subject-matter.
The second method consists in the historical explanation of conduct or of art as a part of anthropology, and seeks to discover the conditions of various types of character, forms of polity, conceptions of justice, and schools of criticism and of art. Of this nature is a great deal of what has been written on aesthetics. The philosophy of art has often proved a more tempting subject than the psychology of taste, especially to minds which were not so much fascinated by beauty itself as by the curious problem of the artistic instinct in man and of the diversity of its manifestations in history.
The third method in ethics and aesthetics is psychological, as the other two are respectively didactic and historical. It deals with moral and aesthetic judgments as phenomena of mind and products of mental evolution. The problem here is to understand the origin and conditions of these feelings and their relation to the rest of our economy. Such an inquiry, if pursued successfully, would yield an understanding of the reason why we think anything right or beautiful, wrong or ugly, it would thus reveal the roots of conscience and taste in human nature and enable us to distinguish transitory preferences and ideals, which rest on peculiar conditions, from those which, springing from those elements of mind which all men share, are comparatively permanent and universal.
To this inquiry, as far as it concerns aesthetics, the following pages are devoted. No attempt will be made either to impose particular appreciations or to trace the history of art and criticism. The discussion will be limited to the nature and elements of our aesthetic judgments. It is a theoretical inquiry and has no directly hortatory quality. Yet insight into the basis of our preferences, if it could be gained, would not fail to have a good and purifying influence upon them. It would show us the futility of a dogmatism that would impose upon another man judgments and emotions for which the needed soil is lacking in his constitution and experience; and at the same time it would relieve us of any undue diffidence or excessive tolerance towards aberrations of taste, when we know what are the broader grounds of preference and the habits that make for greater and more diversified aesthetic enjoyment.
Therefore, although nothing has commonly been less attractive than treatises on beauty or less a guide to taste than disquisitions upon it, we may yet hope for some not merely theoretical gain from these studies. They have remained so often without practical influence because they have been pursued under unfavourable conditions. The writers have generally been audacious metaphysicians and somewhat incompetent critics; they have represented general and obscure principles, suggested by other parts of their philosophy, as the conditions of artistic excellence and the essence of beauty. But if the inquiry is kept close to the facts of feeling, we may hope that the resulting theory may have a clarifying effect on the experience on which it is based. That is, after all, the use of theory. If when a theory is bad it narrows our capacity for observation and makes all appreciation vicarious and formal, when it is good it reacts favourably upon our powers, guides the attention to what is really capable of affording entertainment, and increases, by force of new analogies, the range of our interests. Speculation is an evil if it imposes a foreign organization on our mental life; it is a good if it only brings to light, and makes more perfect by training, the organization already inherent in it.
We shall therefore study human sensibility itself and our actual feelings about beauty, and we shall look for no deeper, unconscious causes of our aesthetic consciousness. Such value as belongs to metaphysical derivations of the nature of the beautiful, comes to them not because they explain our primary feelings, which they cannot do, but because they express, and in fact constitute, some of our later appreciations. There is no explanation, for instance, in calling beauty an adumbration of divine attributes. Such a relation, if it were actual, would not help us at all to understand why the symbols of divinity pleased. But in certain moments of contemplation, when much emotional experience lies behind us, and we have reached very general ideas both of nature and of life, our delight in any particular object may consist in nothing but the thought that this object is a manifestation of universal principles. The blue sky may come to please chiefly because it seems the image of a serene conscience, or of the eternal youth and purity of nature after a thousand partial corruptions. But this expressiveness of the sky is due to certain qualities of the sensation, which bind it to all things happy and pure, and, in a mind in which the essence of purity and happiness is embodied in an idea of God, bind it also to that idea.
So it may happen that the most arbitrary and unreal theories, which must be rejected as general explanations of aesthetic life, may be reinstated as particular moments of it. Those intuitions which we call Platonic are seldom scientific, they seldom explain the phenomena or hit upon the actual law of things, but they are often the highest expression of that activity which they fail to make comprehensible. The adoring lover cannot understand the natural history of love; for he is all in all at the last and supreme stage of its development. Hence the world has always been puzzled in its judgment of the Platonists; their theories are so extravagant, yet their wisdom seems so great. Platonism is a very refined and beautiful expression of our natural instincts, it embodies conscience and utters our inmost hopes. Platonic philosophers have therefore a natural authority, as standing on heights to which the vulgar cannot attain, but to which they naturally and half-consciously aspire.
When a man tells you that beauty is the manifestation of God to the senses, you wish you might understand him, you grope for a deep truth in his obscurity, you honour him for his elevation of mind, and your respect may even induce you to assent to what he says as to an intelligible proposition. Your thought may in consequence be dominated ever after by a verbal dogma, around which all your sympathies and antipathies will quickly gather, and the less you have penetrated the original sense of your creed, the more absolutely will you believe it. You will have followed Mephistopheles' advice: —
Im ganzen haltet euch an Worte,
So geht euch durch die sichere Pforte
Zum Tempel der Gewissheit ein.
Yet reflection might have shown you that the word of the master held no objective account of the nature and origin of beauty, but was the vague expression of his highly complex emotions.
It is one of the attributes of God, one of the perfections which we contemplate in our idea of him, that there is no duality or opposition between his will and his vision, between the impulses of his nature and the events of his life. This is what we commonly designate as omnipotence and creation. Now, in the contemplation of beauty, our faculties of perception have the same perfection: it is indeed from the experience of beauty and happiness, from the occasional harmony between our nature and our environment, that we draw our conception of the divine life. There is, then, a real propriety in calling beauty a manifestation of God to the senses, since, in the region of sense, the perception of beauty exemplifies that adequacy and perfection which in general we objectify in an idea of God.
But the minds that dwell in the atmosphere of these analogies are hardly those that will care to ask what are the conditions and the varieties of this perfection of function, in other words, how it comes about that we perceive beauty at all, or have any inkling of divinity. Only the other philosophers, those that wallow in Epicurus' sty, know anything about the latter question. But it is easier to be impressed than to be instructed, and the public is very ready to believe that where there is noble language not without obscurity there must be profound knowledge. We should distinguish, however, the two distinct demands in the case. One is for comprehension; we look for the theory of a human function which must cover all possible cases of its exercise, whether noble or base. This the Platonists utterly fail to give us. The other demand is for inspiration; we wish to be nourished by the maxims and confessions of an exalted mind, in whom the aesthetic function is pre-eminent. By responding to this demand the same thinkers may win our admiration.
To feel beauty is a better thing than to understand how we come to feel it. To have imagination and taste, to love the best, to be carried by the contemplation of nature to a vivid faith in the ideal, all this is more, a great deal more, than any science can hope to be. The poets and philosophers who express this aesthetic experience and stimulate the same function in us by their example, do a greater service to mankind and deserve higher honour than the discoverers of historical truth. Reflection is indeed a part of life, but the last part. Its specific value consists in the satisfaction of curiosity, in the smoothing out and explanation of things: but the greatest pleasure which we actually get from reflection is borrowed from the experience on which we reflect. We do not often indulge in retrospect for the sake of a scientific knowledge of human life, but rather to revive the memories of what once was dear. And I should have little hope of interesting the reader in the present analyses, did I not rely on the attractions of a subject associated with so many of his pleasures.
But the recognition of the superiority of aesthetics in experience to aesthetics in theory ought not to make us accept as an explanation of aesthetic feeling what is in truth only an expression of it. When Plato tells us of the eternal ideas in conformity to which all excellence consists, he is making himself the spokesman of the moral consciousness. Our conscience and taste establish these ideals; to make a judgment is virtually to establish an ideal, and all ideals are absolute and eternal for the judgment that involves them, because in finding and declaring a thing good or beautiful, our sentence is categorical, and the standard evoked by our judgment is for that case intrinsic and ultimate. But at the next moment, when the mind is on another footing, a new ideal is evoked, no less absolute for the present judgment than the old ideal was for the previous one. If we are then expressing our feeling and confessing what happens to us when we judge, we shall be quite right in saying that we have always an absolute ideal before us, and that value lies in conformity with that ideal. So, also, if we try to define that ideal, we shall hardly be able to say of it anything less noble and more definite than that it is the embodiment of an infinite good. For it is that incommunicable and illusive excellence that haunts every beautiful thing, and
like a star
Beacons from the abode where the eternal are.
For the expression of this experience we should go to the poets, to the more inspired critics, and best of all to the immortal parables of Plato. But if what we desire is to increase our knowledge rather than to cultivate our sensibility, we should do well to close all those delightful books; for we shall not find any instruction there upon the questions which most press upon us; namely, how an ideal is formed in the mind, how a given object is compared with it, what is the common element in all beautiful things, and what the substance of the absolute ideal in which all ideals tend to be lost; and, finally, how we come to be sensitive to beauty at all, or to value it. These questions must be capable of answers, if any science of human nature is really possible. — So far, then, are we from ignoring the insight of the Platonists, that we hope to explain it, and in a sense to justify it, by showing that it is the natural and sometimes the supreme expression of the common principles of our nature.
INTRODUCTION
The sense of beauty has a more important place in life than aesthetic theory has ever taken in philosophy. The plastic arts, with poetry and music, are the most conspicuous monuments of this human interest, because they appeal only to contemplation, and yet have attracted to their service, in all civilized ages, an amount of effort, genius, and honour, little inferior to that given to industry, war, or religion. The fine arts, however, where aesthetic feeling appears almost pure, are by no means the only sphere in which men show their susceptibility to beauty. In all products of human industry we notice the keenness with which the eye is attracted to the mere appearance of things: great sacrifices of time and labour are made to it in the most vulgar manufactures; nor does man select his dwelling, his clothes, or his companions without reference to their effect on his aesthetic senses. Of late we have even learned that the forms of many animals are due to the survival by sexual selection of the colours and forms most attractive to the eye. There must therefore be in our nature a very radical and wide-spread tendency to observe beauty, and to value it. No account of the principles of the mind can be at all adequate that passes over so conspicuous a faculty.
That aesthetic theory has received so little attention from the world is not due to the unimportance of the subject of which it treats, but rather to lack of an adequate motive for speculating upon it, and to the small success of the occasional efforts to deal with it. Absolute curiosity, and love of comprehension for its own sake, are not passions we have much leisure to indulge: they require not only freedom from affairs but, what is more rare, freedom from prepossessions and from the hatred of all ideas that do not make for the habitual goal of our thought.
Now, what has chiefly maintained such speculation as the world has seen has been either theological passion or practical use. All we find, for example, written about beauty may be divided into two groups: that group of writings in which philosophers have interpreted aesthetic facts in the light of their metaphysical principles, and made of their theory of taste a corollary or footnote to their systems; and that group in which artists and critics have ventured into philosophic ground, by generalizing somewhat the maxims of the craft or the comments of the sensitive observer. A treatment of the subject at once direct and theoretic has been very rare: the problems of nature and morals have attracted the reasoners, and the description and creation of beauty have absorbed the artists; between the two reflection upon aesthetic experience has remained abortive or incoherent.
A circumstance that has also contributed to the absence or to the failure of aesthetic speculation is the subjectivity of the phenomenon with which it deals. Man has a prejudice against himself: anything which is a product of his mind seems to him to be unreal or comparatively insignificant. We are satisfied only when we fancy ourselves surrounded by objects and laws independent of our nature. The ancients long speculated about the constitution of the universe before they became aware of that mind which is the instrument of all speculation. The moderns, also, even within the field of psychology, have studied first the function of perception and the theory of knowledge, by which we seem to be informed about external things; they have in comparison neglected the exclusively subjective and human department of imagination and emotion. We have still to recognize in practice the truth that from these despised feelings of ours the great world of perception derives all its value, if not also its existence. Things are interesting because we care about them, and important because we need them. Had our perceptions no connexion with our pleasures, we should soon close our eyes on this world; if our intelligence were of no service to our passions, we should come to doubt, in the lazy freedom of reverie, whether two and two make four.
Yet so strong is the popular sense of the unworthiness and insignificance of things purely emotional, that those who have taken moral problems to heart and felt their dignity have often been led into attempts to discover some external right and beauty of which, our moral and aesthetic feelings should be perceptions or discoveries, just as our intellectual activity is, in men's opinion, a perception or discovery of external fact. These philosophers seem to feel that unless moral and aesthetic judgments are expressions of objective truth, and not merely expressions of human nature, they stand condemned of hopeless triviality. A judgment is not trivial, however, because it rests on human feelings; on the contrary, triviality consists in abstraction from human interests; only those judgments and opinions are truly insignificant which wander beyond the reach of verification, and have no function in the ordering and enriching of life.
Both ethics and aesthetics have suffered much from the prejudice against the subjective. They have not suffered more because both have a subject-matter which is partly objective. Ethics deals with conduct as much as with emotion, and therefore considers the causes of events and their consequences as well as our judgments of their value. Esthetics also is apt to include the history and philosophy of art, and to add much descriptive and critical matter to the theory of our susceptibility to beauty. A certain confusion is thereby introduced into these inquiries, but at the same time the discussion is enlivened by excursions into neighbouring provinces, perhaps more interesting to the general reader.
We may, however, distinguish three distinct elements of ethics and aesthetics, and three different ways of approaching the subject. The first is the exercise of the moral or aesthetic faculty itself, the actual pronouncing of judgment and giving of praise, blame, and precept. This is not a matter of science but of character, enthusiasm, niceness of perception, and fineness of emotion. It is aesthetic or moral activity, while ethics and aesthetics, as sciences, are intellectual activities, having that aesthetic or moral activity for their subject-matter.
The second method consists in the historical explanation of conduct or of art as a part of anthropology, and seeks to discover the conditions of various types of character, forms of polity, conceptions of justice, and schools of criticism and of art. Of this nature is a great deal of what has been written on aesthetics. The philosophy of art has often proved a more tempting subject than the psychology of taste, especially to minds which were not so much fascinated by beauty itself as by the curious problem of the artistic instinct in man and of the diversity of its manifestations in history.
The third method in ethics and aesthetics is psychological, as the other two are respectively didactic and historical. It deals with moral and aesthetic judgments as phenomena of mind and products of mental evolution. The problem here is to understand the origin and conditions of these feelings and their relation to the rest of our economy. Such an inquiry, if pursued successfully, would yield an understanding of the reason why we think anything right or beautiful, wrong or ugly, it would thus reveal the roots of conscience and taste in human nature and enable us to distinguish transitory preferences and ideals, which rest on peculiar conditions, from those which, springing from those elements of mind which all men share, are comparatively permanent and universal.
To this inquiry, as far as it concerns aesthetics, the following pages are devoted. No attempt will be made either to impose particular appreciations or to trace the history of art and criticism. The discussion will be limited to the nature and elements of our aesthetic judgments. It is a theoretical inquiry and has no directly hortatory quality. Yet insight into the basis of our preferences, if it could be gained, would not fail to have a good and purifying influence upon them. It would show us the futility of a dogmatism that would impose upon another man judgments and emotions for which the needed soil is lacking in his constitution and experience; and at the same time it would relieve us of any undue diffidence or excessive tolerance towards aberrations of taste, when we know what are the broader grounds of preference and the habits that make for greater and more diversified aesthetic enjoyment.
Therefore, although nothing has commonly been less attractive than treatises on beauty or less a guide to taste than disquisitions upon it, we may yet hope for some not merely theoretical gain from these studies. They have remained so often without practical influence because they have been pursued under unfavourable conditions. The writers have generally been audacious metaphysicians and somewhat incompetent critics; they have represented general and obscure principles, suggested by other parts of their philosophy, as the conditions of artistic excellence and the essence of beauty. But if the inquiry is kept close to the facts of feeling, we may hope that the resulting theory may have a clarifying effect on the experience on which it is based. That is, after all, the use of theory. If when a theory is bad it narrows our capacity for observation and makes all appreciation vicarious and formal, when it is good it reacts favourably upon our powers, guides the attention to what is really capable of affording entertainment, and increases, by force of new analogies, the range of our interests. Speculation is an evil if it imposes a foreign organization on our mental life; it is a good if it only brings to light, and makes more perfect by training, the organization already inherent in it.
We shall therefore study human sensibility itself and our actual feelings about beauty, and we shall look for no deeper, unconscious causes of our aesthetic consciousness. Such value as belongs to metaphysical derivations of the nature of the beautiful, comes to them not because they explain our primary feelings, which they cannot do, but because they express, and in fact constitute, some of our later appreciations. There is no explanation, for instance, in calling beauty an adumbration of divine attributes. Such a relation, if it were actual, would not help us at all to understand why the symbols of divinity pleased. But in certain moments of contemplation, when much emotional experience lies behind us, and we have reached very general ideas both of nature and of life, our delight in any particular object may consist in nothing but the thought that this object is a manifestation of universal principles. The blue sky may come to please chiefly because it seems the image of a serene conscience, or of the eternal youth and purity of nature after a thousand partial corruptions. But this expressiveness of the sky is due to certain qualities of the sensation, which bind it to all things happy and pure, and, in a mind in which the essence of purity and happiness is embodied in an idea of God, bind it also to that idea.
So it may happen that the most arbitrary and unreal theories, which must be rejected as general explanations of aesthetic life, may be reinstated as particular moments of it. Those intuitions which we call Platonic are seldom scientific, they seldom explain the phenomena or hit upon the actual law of things, but they are often the highest expression of that activity which they fail to make comprehensible. The adoring lover cannot understand the natural history of love; for he is all in all at the last and supreme stage of its development. Hence the world has always been puzzled in its judgment of the Platonists; their theories are so extravagant, yet their wisdom seems so great. Platonism is a very refined and beautiful expression of our natural instincts, it embodies conscience and utters our inmost hopes. Platonic philosophers have therefore a natural authority, as standing on heights to which the vulgar cannot attain, but to which they naturally and half-consciously aspire.
When a man tells you that beauty is the manifestation of God to the senses, you wish you might understand him, you grope for a deep truth in his obscurity, you honour him for his elevation of mind, and your respect may even induce you to assent to what he says as to an intelligible proposition. Your thought may in consequence be dominated ever after by a verbal dogma, around which all your sympathies and antipathies will quickly gather, and the less you have penetrated the original sense of your creed, the more absolutely will you believe it. You will have followed Mephistopheles' advice: —
Im ganzen haltet euch an Worte,
So geht euch durch die sichere Pforte
Zum Tempel der Gewissheit ein.
Yet reflection might have shown you that the word of the master held no objective account of the nature and origin of beauty, but was the vague expression of his highly complex emotions.
It is one of the attributes of God, one of the perfections which we contemplate in our idea of him, that there is no duality or opposition between his will and his vision, between the impulses of his nature and the events of his life. This is what we commonly designate as omnipotence and creation. Now, in the contemplation of beauty, our faculties of perception have the same perfection: it is indeed from the experience of beauty and happiness, from the occasional harmony between our nature and our environment, that we draw our conception of the divine life. There is, then, a real propriety in calling beauty a manifestation of God to the senses, since, in the region of sense, the perception of beauty exemplifies that adequacy and perfection which in general we objectify in an idea of God.
But the minds that dwell in the atmosphere of these analogies are hardly those that will care to ask what are the conditions and the varieties of this perfection of function, in other words, how it comes about that we perceive beauty at all, or have any inkling of divinity. Only the other philosophers, those that wallow in Epicurus' sty, know anything about the latter question. But it is easier to be impressed than to be instructed, and the public is very ready to believe that where there is noble language not without obscurity there must be profound knowledge. We should distinguish, however, the two distinct demands in the case. One is for comprehension; we look for the theory of a human function which must cover all possible cases of its exercise, whether noble or base. This the Platonists utterly fail to give us. The other demand is for inspiration; we wish to be nourished by the maxims and confessions of an exalted mind, in whom the aesthetic function is pre-eminent. By responding to this demand the same thinkers may win our admiration.
To feel beauty is a better thing than to understand how we come to feel it. To have imagination and taste, to love the best, to be carried by the contemplation of nature to a vivid faith in the ideal, all this is more, a great deal more, than any science can hope to be. The poets and philosophers who express this aesthetic experience and stimulate the same function in us by their example, do a greater service to mankind and deserve higher honour than the discoverers of historical truth. Reflection is indeed a part of life, but the last part. Its specific value consists in the satisfaction of curiosity, in the smoothing out and explanation of things: but the greatest pleasure which we actually get from reflection is borrowed from the experience on which we reflect. We do not often indulge in retrospect for the sake of a scientific knowledge of human life, but rather to revive the memories of what once was dear. And I should have little hope of interesting the reader in the present analyses, did I not rely on the attractions of a subject associated with so many of his pleasures.
But the recognition of the superiority of aesthetics in experience to aesthetics in theory ought not to make us accept as an explanation of aesthetic feeling what is in truth only an expression of it. When Plato tells us of the eternal ideas in conformity to which all excellence consists, he is making himself the spokesman of the moral consciousness. Our conscience and taste establish these ideals; to make a judgment is virtually to establish an ideal, and all ideals are absolute and eternal for the judgment that involves them, because in finding and declaring a thing good or beautiful, our sentence is categorical, and the standard evoked by our judgment is for that case intrinsic and ultimate. But at the next moment, when the mind is on another footing, a new ideal is evoked, no less absolute for the present judgment than the old ideal was for the previous one. If we are then expressing our feeling and confessing what happens to us when we judge, we shall be quite right in saying that we have always an absolute ideal before us, and that value lies in conformity with that ideal. So, also, if we try to define that ideal, we shall hardly be able to say of it anything less noble and more definite than that it is the embodiment of an infinite good. For it is that incommunicable and illusive excellence that haunts every beautiful thing, and
like a star
Beacons from the abode where the eternal are.
For the expression of this experience we should go to the poets, to the more inspired critics, and best of all to the immortal parables of Plato. But if what we desire is to increase our knowledge rather than to cultivate our sensibility, we should do well to close all those delightful books; for we shall not find any instruction there upon the questions which most press upon us; namely, how an ideal is formed in the mind, how a given object is compared with it, what is the common element in all beautiful things, and what the substance of the absolute ideal in which all ideals tend to be lost; and, finally, how we come to be sensitive to beauty at all, or to value it. These questions must be capable of answers, if any science of human nature is really possible. — So far, then, are we from ignoring the insight of the Platonists, that we hope to explain it, and in a sense to justify it, by showing that it is the natural and sometimes the supreme expression of the common principles of our nature.
Zakiya Cummings-Yoga
I love to watch people do yoga...in a non creepy way...it looks so relaxing and beautiful
The Beauty of Yoga
by Amanda on September 5, 2012

Camel Yoga Pose, CC uplaod by Odysseyfx
The world is endlessly fascinated with
yoga. Over thousands of years, countless scholars and spiritual seekers
have attempted to define yoga. While these definitions differ widely in
some ways, they all share one thing in common: the belief that yoga is
always more than an exercise, a series of stretches, a 90-minute class, a
sequence of poses, a philosophy, a lifestyle, or a religion. The
beauty of yoga is that it can be all, none, or some of these things for
each practitioner.
The beauty of yoga is that it is 100%
inclusive of anybody who steps forward with a willing and open heart. No
expensive equipment, no minimum physical fitness, no restrictions on
geography, no previous experience necessary. The only requirement in
yoga is to simply show up. Wherever you are with your physical body, no
matter how tattered you feel inside, just come to the mat and simply practice.
Yoga will meet you wherever you are.
The beauty of yoga is that it encourages
you to turn inward as you listen to your own body, finding that perfect
sweet spot in a challenging pose. It gently reminds you to set your
intention as you embark upon your journey, and to continually return to
mindfulness. Yoga beckons you to explore its enduring philosophy and
apply this timeless wisdom to the modern world.
Yoga, as outlined by the ancient sutras, has little to do with poses and everything to do with self-awareness, self-improvement, and self-study.
Practicing yoga invites us to show kindness & grace to ourselves,
to be flexible with our minds and bodies, and to be more fully present
in our lives on and off the mat.
THAT IS THE BEAUTY OF YOGA.
Here at Grow Soul Beautiful, we are
passionate about the power of yoga to transform not just physical
bodies, but entire lives. A rich, nurturing yoga practice can heal the
wounded spirit and calm the racing mind. We use yoga not only as a tool
to spotlight the awesome power and grace of the human body, but also as
a path toward holistic health–body, mind, and soul.
Tomorrow: The Beauty of Photography
Brian Koonce: Viewing Sport as an Art
In Nietzsche's Dionysiac definition of art, experiencing sports event from the stands as a fan definitely falls under this category. Dionysiac art is characterized by a loss of self; a completely sublime experience, as Schopenhaur would describe it; in which one has no control over their emotions. Music and the performing arts often have the same effect on spectators; take concerts for instance. Concert-goers, although often influenced by alcohol and other more hallucinogenic drugs, are seen dancing, swaying, even gyrating in an uncontrollable fashion. At a sports event, especially in tense moments, the spectator is completely in the control of the outcome of the game; if the shot goes in, elation will overcome them and all others around them, and if it bangs off the rim, disappointment and frustration will haunt them until the next season.
Zakiya Cummings-Plato
http://fotios.org/files/fotios.cc/papers/phil/Plato_Theory_of_Art.htm
Plato’s Theory of Art
Plato’s theory of
art is not included in the favorite subjects of study for modern philosophy
scholars and there are some very specific and good reasons for that. On one
hand his theory may be considered weak considering the fact that in his various
works he does not present us with a satisfactory scientific account of his
views on the subject. On the other hand, his views change considerably as he
matures. This latter fact justifies the differences of opinion on the matter
that one may find comparing works completed in different periods of his life.
In his attempt to make Art fit in his general philosophical framework he
suffocates it under his “hard-core” reasoning. Platonic
“Ethics” mutilate Art into what may be called “Educative
Art” which is the only kind of Art that gains the privilege of being
accepted in his “Ideal State”.
This account of Plato’s theory
of art will be based on his dialogues : “Ion”,
“Phaedrus” and “Symposium”, which although were written
in different periods1 they provide a relatively coherent -
but not entirely devoid of contradictions - idea of his conception of Art.
In “Ion” one can
understand that there is a rather prominent distinction between what is
generally considered as art and what he considers to be art. For Plato, Art is
or ought to be a very specific system or mode of thought that submits to
reason.2 It is important to stress at this point
that the whole portion of the dialogue does not treat poetry as some kind of
art.3
In fact poetry is considered by him as a kind of “Oracular
Testament” given through the poet by divine authority.4 Artistic
inspiration is not considered a normal, well integrated in the human mental
pattern, process but is perceived as a state of “possession” by the
Muse. According to Plato, in poetry the rational element is absent.5
In Plato’s opinion this theory
of poetry is upheld by the fact that poets, generally considered as bad, have
from time to time produced excellent poems. To him there is little doubt that
this way the gods demonstrate their intervention in poetic creativity.6
In my opinion, Plato’s views as
I presented them above show some degree of insensitivity to the sentimental
nature of man. It seems that at the time this dialogue was written, he
considered such qualities as beauty and inspiration alien to the human soul and
as a consequence of that he tried to explain any trace of them that he would
find by considering it of divine origin. This is the main difference between
this dialogue and the other two in account.
In “Phaedrus” one can
notice again Plato’s distinction between Art and Philosophy. They both
share the presence of “Reason” but they appear as two quite
distinct entities, probably by virtue of knowledge.7Plato’s
conception of Art is again presented in a sketchy and unclear manner but in
this dialogue there are two major factors that help the modern scholar
understand his theory. Namely these factors are his use of
“Symbolism” as an efficient tool to reach the desired result1
and the introduction of “emotion” in the general pattern of the
human soul.
The element of symbolism is well
demonstrated in his description of the nature of the human soul as a
“pair of winged horses and a charioteer” but it is also prominently
present throughout the dialog’s portion. This use of symbolism may well
be interpreted as a recognition from Plato’s part that there are certain
cases where “poetical figures” are more efficient in describing or
even explaining an object or an “Idea”2. By
expanding this notion we can fairly say that Plato considered
“symbolism” and in turn Art as part of the reasoning process. This
in turn would mean that he would have to include art as a whole in his
“republic”, but it is unclear if he finally did so. In fact it
seems that he did not and that may serve as another example of his incapability
to form a sound theory of art.
Plato’s vivid description of
the soul introduces the emotional part of its nature which exists by virtue of
“beauty”.3 If such a notion is to be introduced
through poetry then it is fair to say that Plato should conclude that any
“emotional” situation is best expressed by poetry or art in
general. Thus art becomes a necessity as long as it is a fact that the human
soul possesses an emotional side.4
At the start of the portion of
“Symposium” in account, Plato views art as a lowly kind of wisdom
and he matches that wisdom with that of handicrafts.5 One may
comment here that, if viewed from a utilitarian point of view, arts can be
found to be even lower in “virtue” or “goodness” than
the handicrafts and in fact this is done by Plato in some other dialogues.6
The views that are expressed in the
rest of the portion are quite incongruent to the notion he presents at the
start. Specifically he kind of apologetically7 generalizes the notion
of art to include any kind of practice that realizes or creates8 what is
envisioned.9 Plato then proceeds with further
puzzling the reader by admitting that wisdom and virtue in general are
conceived by artists (!)10. More specifically he theorizes that
the creativity in the inventor’s soul is expressed by art (poetry).
It is important to mention here that
as it seems - especially in his dialogue - there is a close connection in
Plato’s mind between “Beauty” and “Art”. Beauty
is reached and grasped through reason.11 This knowledge of
beauty is the “Science of Beauty”.12 On the other hand
beauty is also found and appreciated in art. Now the major problem here is: Did
Plato consider the process of art making a rational process (a process
involving the use of reason) or not ? If he did then everything in this
dialogue makes sense. If not then we have a major contradiction here; for how
can beauty (which is a Form) be realized or conceived and amply expressed by
that which is irrational ? I believe that somehow he understood that
shortcoming and that is why his explanation of the rational or irrational
nature of art is very fuzzy.
In the last two dialogues in account
Plato - being more mature philosophically - does not use the divine element to
explain human creativity or drives in general. Instead he tries to generalize
his principles and provide complete human-centered explanations of everything.
The Platonic philosophy overstates
and overemphasizes the rational element of the human nature. Emotion and more
specifically emotional pleasure detached from reason has little or no place in
his theories. This creates a major barrier that blocks the way to a clear
understanding of Art; a barrier that Plato never really passed. Although Plato
can be considered an artist himself he finally fails to provide a framework of
thought about art that is solid.
1 Ion is written in the “Socratic
period” of Plato while “Phaedrus” and “Symposium on his
period of maturity.
2 “No one can fail to see that you
speak of Homer without any art or knowledge”, “rules of art”.
3 I must make clear here that by the
term “Plato’s theory of Art” I mean his theory on what is
generally considered Art today.
4 “The gift which you possess of
speaking excellently about Homer is not an art, but, as I was just saying, an
inspiration; there is a divinity moving you”
5 “so the lyric poets are not in
their right mind when they are composing their beautiful strains”.
6 “these beautiful poems are not
human, or the work of man, but divine and the work of God;”.
7 Philosophy aims at knowledge while Art
not necessarily.
1 “I have made and paid my
recantation, as well and as fairly as I could; more especially in the matter of
the poetical figures which I was compelled to use”.
2 The Sensible and the Intelligible.
3 “the beauty of the beloved meets
her eye and she receives the sensible warm motion of particles which flow
towards her, therefore called emotion”.
4 Although this seems a quite reasonable
conclusion, it is never clearly mentioned by Plato.
5 “all other wisdom such as that of
arts and handicrafts, is mean and vulgar”.
6 At some point Plato theorizes that a
painting of a bed is less “real” than an actual bed since it is
merely a picture of it . To him that means that Painting is less
“virtuous” than Carpentry.
7 At this point he probably realizes
that his previous understanding of art was kind of shallow. This kind of
radical changes in opinion show that there was a great deal of difficulty by
Plato to conceive a proper definition or description of art.
8 Becoming.
9 “All creation or passage of
non-being into being is poetry or making, and the processes of all art are
creative”.
10 “And what are these conceptions?
- wisdom and virtue in general. And such creators are poets and all artists who
are deserving of the name inventor.”.
11 For Plato beauty is another
“Form” which is fully realized in the world of
“Ideas”.
12 “and at last the vision is
revealed to him of a single science, which is the science of beauty
everywhere.”.
Zakiya Cummings- Aristotle
http://www.essortment.com/aristotles-theory-art-64150.html
Aristotle presented three methods for classifying art based on the idea of art as imitation. The first method involves a difference in the means of imitation. In the first chapter of Poetics, Aristotle wrote, "Just as color and form are used as means by some . . .and the voice is used by others; . . .the means with them as a whole are rhythm, language, and harmony." These three elements, whether they are combined or employed separately, constitute the means of imitation. This definition provides a way to distinguish among music, poetry, dance, and drama.
Examination of the object being represented is another way
to classify art. Aristotle made a distinction about the motive of the
action being imitated. He wrote in Poetics, "It follows, therefore,
that the agents represented must be either above our own level of
goodness, or beneath it, or just such as we are;" In this way,
Aristotle introduced the idea of virtue as a factor in the object of
imitation. The object or action being represented is the main
difference between a comedy
and a tragedy. Both can be presented using the same means and with the
same dramatic manner, but the actions being imitated in a comedy are
positive like love and humor while a tragedy brings out the darker side
of human nature.
The manner in which the object is presented is the final way to evaluate the arts. Aristotle outlined three ways an object may be presented: "one may either speak at one moment in narrative and at another in assumed character . . . or one may remain the same throughout . . . or the imitators may represent the whole story dramatically." This description deals mainly with poetry, but it can be modified to apply to other art forms.
Aristotle's theory on art examines art as a productive science. The quality of the object produced determines the merit of the art. The art is found within the product not within the mind of the artist. This theory promotes critical evaluation because the evaluator doesn't need to consider the message or intent of the artist when evaluating the object. The message of the artist may be absent or unclear, but if the object itself is a nearly perfect imitation, it could be considered a wonderful piece of art. The circumstances or history behind the work are also insignificant during the assessment of its artistic value.
The perspective of art as a productive science raises questions about trades such as medicine, architecture, and cobbling. These sciences certainly have a product-a healthy patient, a building, or a shoe. In what way could these objects be considered imitations? Should these objects be considered art in the same way a song or a play would be considered art? In response to the first question, I propose that we examine specific examples for their imitative quality. The architectural style of Frank Lloyd Wright is an illustration of the way a building can imitate nature. The color, shape, and materials utilized in his buildings were chosen to mirror the natural landscape of their location. The most recognizable aspect of a shoe is its resemblance to the form of the human foot. In this way, a shoe could be seen as an imitation of the wearer. These examples indicate that some productive sciences would meet the criteria in Aristotle's definition of art. Historically, a major criticism of Aristotle's theory on art has been his failure to differentiate between mechanical and fine arts.
Another difficulty with the idea of art as imitation is the fact that each person who is viewing, hearing, reading, etc. comes from a different perspective. This person may never have experienced the object of imitation, and therefore would not consider the piece to be art. It would also be difficult to evaluate art if the person had never seen or heard what is being imitated. A person who had spent his or her entire life in a remote part of Alaska could look at a painting of a palm tree and not consider it to be an imitation of nature. A counterpart in the Caribbean may recognize the painting as an excellent imitation of a palm tree. This inconsistency represents a major flaw in Aristotle's theory.
If art were viewed solely as an imitation of life, a whole class of abstract works would not be considered art. Cubism and Pop Art are two types of art that have many valuable characteristics, but are not realistic imitations of nature. The creativity and social implications demonstrated in many works of art are not considered in Aristotle's theory. The imitation theory rewards those who copy nature. Imagination and creativity aren't given the credit they deserve. The originality of an idea should be considered in evaluating its artistic merit.
Aristotle's theory of art as imitation provides a basis for classification of art forms. This theory appeals to human nature, but lacks more refined ideas about viewer response and abstract art forms.
Aristotle, the greek philospopher views art as an imitation of life. He develops ways to categorize and evaluate art in his writings.
Many people would look at one of Jackson Pollock's canvases and
question whether the wild splashes of paint constitute a work of art.
If you were standing next to Aristotle as you viewed the canvas, he
might tell you that Pollock's work is not true art because it doesn't
reflect any aspect of natural life. Aristotle was the first to
introduce the theory that art imitates nature. He considered the origin
of art as a basis for his argument. Throughout his theory, he
developed a method for evaluation and classification of art.
Aristotle attributed the origin of art to the human
affinity for imitation. From childhood, imitation is the primary method
of learning. Aristotle concluded that it is natural for humans to
"delight in works of imitation." In modern society this theme is
demonstrated in the general fascination with horrific news stories such
as the Oklahoma City bombing and the crash of Flight 800.
Aristotle presented three methods for classifying art based on the idea of art as imitation. The first method involves a difference in the means of imitation. In the first chapter of Poetics, Aristotle wrote, "Just as color and form are used as means by some . . .and the voice is used by others; . . .the means with them as a whole are rhythm, language, and harmony." These three elements, whether they are combined or employed separately, constitute the means of imitation. This definition provides a way to distinguish among music, poetry, dance, and drama.
The manner in which the object is presented is the final way to evaluate the arts. Aristotle outlined three ways an object may be presented: "one may either speak at one moment in narrative and at another in assumed character . . . or one may remain the same throughout . . . or the imitators may represent the whole story dramatically." This description deals mainly with poetry, but it can be modified to apply to other art forms.
Aristotle's theory on art examines art as a productive science. The quality of the object produced determines the merit of the art. The art is found within the product not within the mind of the artist. This theory promotes critical evaluation because the evaluator doesn't need to consider the message or intent of the artist when evaluating the object. The message of the artist may be absent or unclear, but if the object itself is a nearly perfect imitation, it could be considered a wonderful piece of art. The circumstances or history behind the work are also insignificant during the assessment of its artistic value.
The perspective of art as a productive science raises questions about trades such as medicine, architecture, and cobbling. These sciences certainly have a product-a healthy patient, a building, or a shoe. In what way could these objects be considered imitations? Should these objects be considered art in the same way a song or a play would be considered art? In response to the first question, I propose that we examine specific examples for their imitative quality. The architectural style of Frank Lloyd Wright is an illustration of the way a building can imitate nature. The color, shape, and materials utilized in his buildings were chosen to mirror the natural landscape of their location. The most recognizable aspect of a shoe is its resemblance to the form of the human foot. In this way, a shoe could be seen as an imitation of the wearer. These examples indicate that some productive sciences would meet the criteria in Aristotle's definition of art. Historically, a major criticism of Aristotle's theory on art has been his failure to differentiate between mechanical and fine arts.
Another difficulty with the idea of art as imitation is the fact that each person who is viewing, hearing, reading, etc. comes from a different perspective. This person may never have experienced the object of imitation, and therefore would not consider the piece to be art. It would also be difficult to evaluate art if the person had never seen or heard what is being imitated. A person who had spent his or her entire life in a remote part of Alaska could look at a painting of a palm tree and not consider it to be an imitation of nature. A counterpart in the Caribbean may recognize the painting as an excellent imitation of a palm tree. This inconsistency represents a major flaw in Aristotle's theory.
If art were viewed solely as an imitation of life, a whole class of abstract works would not be considered art. Cubism and Pop Art are two types of art that have many valuable characteristics, but are not realistic imitations of nature. The creativity and social implications demonstrated in many works of art are not considered in Aristotle's theory. The imitation theory rewards those who copy nature. Imagination and creativity aren't given the credit they deserve. The originality of an idea should be considered in evaluating its artistic merit.
Aristotle's theory of art as imitation provides a basis for classification of art forms. This theory appeals to human nature, but lacks more refined ideas about viewer response and abstract art forms.
Zakiya Cummings- Kant
This quote by Kant summarizes his view on Art. (in my opinion)
"Nature was beautiful if at
the same time it looked like art; and art can
only be called beautiful if we are conscious that
it is art and yet it looks like nature to us"
http://www.jstor.org/stable/431427
"Nature was beautiful if at
the same time it looked like art; and art can
only be called beautiful if we are conscious that
it is art and yet it looks like nature to us"
http://www.jstor.org/stable/431427
Zakiya Cummings- Phenomenological Approach
We talked about the phenomenological Approach in philosophy I thought it be interesting to look at it in a different form.
Keywords:
- phenomenology;
- Merleau-Ponty;
- perception;
- intentionality;
- embodiment;
- nursing research
Abstract
Abstract
Phenomenology has proved to be a popular methodology for nursing
research. I argue, however, that phenomenological nursing research could
be strengthened by greater attention to its philosophical
underpinnings. Many research reports devote more page space to procedure
than to the philosophy that purportedly guided it. The philosophy of
Maurice Merleau-Ponty is an excellent fit for nursing, although his work
has received less attention than that of Husserl and Heidegger. In this
paper, I examine the life and thought of Merleau-Ponty, with emphasis
on concepts, such as perception, intentionality and embodiment, which
have particular relevance to the discipline of nursing.
How remote from their clumsy pride was the task which they considered insignificant and left in dust and must – the task of description – although the subtlest fingers and senses can scarcely be subtle enough for it. (Friedrich Nietzsche)
Phenomenological
research methodology is devoted to that ‘task of description’ of which
Nietzche spoke. When well written, the report of a phenomenological
study can move readers to tears. Such a report can take clinicians into
the lifeworld of their patients in a deeper way, often producing
astonishment as well as empathy and compassion. Nursing studies
conducted from a phenomenological stance have yielded compelling
descriptions of the lived experience of diverse disease conditions (e.g.
addiction, anorexia, arthritis, cancer) and symptoms (e.g. air hunger,
chronic pain, urinary incontinence), as well as more elusive phenomena
such as courage and caring (Koch, 1995; Carpenter et al., 1999).
I argue, however, that phenomenological nursing research could be
strengthened by greater attention to its philosophical underpinnings.
The work of Maurice Merleau-Ponty provides an excellent philosophical
base for advancing nursing research, and I seek to kindle excitement
about it among other scholars. I begin by describing my personal odyssey
as a researcher.
Discarding the mechanistic lens
For
much of modern nursing's history, medicine's mechanistic lens for
seeing phenomena also was nursing's lens. Patients’ bodies were viewed
as malfunctioning machines and their complaints as problems to be solved
using a linear hypothetico-deductive thought process. Likewise, nursing
research proceeded from specifying a ‘problem’ to operationalizing
discrete, measurable variables such as ‘stress’, to statistical testing
of the null hypothesis (Thomas & Pollio, 2002).
I became dissatisfied with this approach when my programme of research
began to focus on women's stress and anger. For example, no
questionnaire measures women's vicarious stress, which proved to be the
stressor of greatest magnitude for women in a study by my research team (Thomas, 1993).
Study participants had completed a well-validated and reliable stress
instrument, but an open-ended question ultimately revealed the
shortcomings of this instrument. The open-ended question, added almost
as an afterthought, permitted the women to describe their greatest
distress in their own words.
What most
troubled my study participants were events happening to their
significant others, such as the impending divorce of a son, job problems
of a husband, illness of a sister or friend. In these stressful
circumstances the women suffered empathically along with their loved
ones but had little or no control over what was transpiring. Vicarious
stress was not amenable to traditional stress management strategies
directed toward marshalling personal resources and gaining mastery. It
fuelled a chronic, impotent anger. I realized that the nature of this
stress, and the concomitant anger, of these women would not have been
revealed by any of the commonly utilized instruments. To understand what
they felt, I needed to plumb the complexities of their relational
commitments to partners, friends, and extended families. I needed to
invite them to describe their experience in an unfettered manner,
telling their stories of emotional distress with all the inherent
messiness that cannot be neatly operationalized and factor-analysed.
Experiences such as this led me to phenomenological methodology. Before the ink was dry on my first book about women's anger (Thomas, 1993),
based largely on quantitative research data, I had formed a new
research team and plunged into phenomenological investigation. I was
soon stunned by the realization that the quantitative project had
completely missed an essential dimension of women's anger experience:
the intermingling of deep hurt with their anger. Women often said, ‘I
don’t know if I’m more angry or hurt; I’m hurt and angry.’ (Thomas et al., 1998)
The hurt emanated from violations of an implicit relational contract
that women understood to be present between themselves and their
significant others. What women expected was reciprocity in their close
relationships. When others let them down, their emotional response was
an amalgam of painful feelings – feelings that were often
suppressed for fear of alienating intimates or causing relationship
termination. These research findings had significant implications for
extant cognitive-behavioural anger management interventions, none of
which addressed these complexly interwoven aspects of women's anger.
None of the ‘valid and reliable’ anger instruments had permitted
discovery of these findings.
So I became a
‘convert’ to phenomenology, but well aware of my limitations and hungry
for greater knowledge. Long a reader of existential philosophers such
as Kierkegaard, Camus, and Sartre, I felt comfortable with existential
tenets. But I had been trained solely as a quantitative researcher. What
did I know about qualitative research methodology? What did I know
about phenomenology? It is said that when the learner is ready, the
teacher will appear. I had actually taken a course in existential
phenomenology as a doctoral student and enjoyed my first dabbling in the
work of Merleau-Ponty (Merleau-Ponty, 1945),
but at the time I was thoroughly captivated by beta weights,
Bonferronis and significant Fs. As the years passed, sometimes I would
see my teacher around campus. He would ask what I was studying, and he
would gently suggest that phenomenological interviews might be
revelatory. Finally, I heard what he was saying. One day, 15 years after
the first course, I enrolled in his class again, and Merleau-Ponty now
made so much more sense. I experienced an epiphany. I was home. I have
been immersed in existential phenomenology ever since, at first a mere
novice in my professor's weekly research group, then a collaborator, and
finally a coleader. Our interdisciplinary group has been meeting weekly
for 12 years now. There is something very special about our Tuesday
afternoon meetings. About 15–20 faculty and students from nursing,
education, psychology, geography, exercise science and other disciplines
gather together for the reading of phenomenological interview
transcripts. Enthusiasm about our approach has been kindled in dozens of
colleagues and students, some of whom contributed to our 2002 book, Listening to Patients (Thomas & Pollio, 2002).
Why choose phenomenology for the study of emotion?
I contend that only within existential phenomenology has emotion been given a central place in human existence (Heidegger, 1927; Sartre & Frechtman, 1939).
Earlier philosophies tended to view emotion as inferior to reason;
being ‘emotional’ led to mistakes, madness and sin. Within existential
phenomenology, the various forms of being emotional are viewed as
diverse ways of being-in-the-world (Fischer et al., 1989),
and the phenomenologist is interested in their meanings. Sartre was one
of the first to offer an account of emotion, proposing that emotion is
the way consciousness changes the world from deterministic to magical (Sartre, 1939).
For example, an emotion like anger could be used strategically, to
achieve one's ends when faced with the struggles and difficulties of a
deterministic world. Emotions are gestalts that move us to action; they
cannot be reduced to physiological alterations or motor behaviours (Sartre, 1939).
Yet much contemporary research focuses on discrete aspects of emotion
such as changes in facial musculature or neurotransmitters. Pribram has
commented on this trend, ‘It was not so very long ago that I attended a
symposium on “emotion” at an international congress in Madrid. The
participants discussed factor analysis, limbic neuroanatomy, and operant
conditioning. Somewhere in the agenda emotions were hidden from view,
lurking in the dark alleys of our ignorance. No one even dared used the
term’ (Pribram et al., 1980,
p. 246). It is time to uncover the meanings of anger, stress and
depression from the first-person perspective of individuals experiencing
these feelings. Perhaps they have value and purpose. Existential
phenomenology offers a way to engage in respectful dialogue with people
and glean richly nuanced and contextualized descriptions of their
emotions. While other qualitative approaches employ a dialogical method,
what is unique here is the specific philosophical lens.
Choosing the specific philosophical lens for the study of emotion
To enable me to see emotional phenomena freshly, I chose a new lens derived from the philosophy of Maurice Merleau-Ponty (Merleau-Ponty, 1945).
I liked his antireductionist and antipositivist stance. I liked his
explicit rejection of Cartesian mind–body dualism. He contended that the
‘I’ which thinks is inseparable from his body and his lived situation; a
person is an indissoluble unity. In contrast to Heidegger, whose focus
was on the abstract nature of being, Merleau-Ponty was concerned with a
science of human beings (Cohen, 1987).
The specific aim of his phenomenology was to give a direct description,
not a causal explanation, of experience. Merleau-Ponty exhorted us to
examine the immediacy of experience before it is objectified by science.
He believed that true philosophy is relearning to see the world. Thus,
he urged us to be astonished by the world, to see it with open and
wondering eyes.
Merleau-Ponty (1908–61)
was a contemporary of philosophical luminaries such as Husserl, Sartre,
and Heidegger. In early 20th century Europe, immersed in the horror of
two world wars being fought in their own lands, it is not surprising
that these German and French philosophers were grappling with issues of
anxiety, death, freedom, responsibility and the very meaning of human
existence. A remote and abstract philosophy could no longer be
satisfying to them. Their personal experiences undoubtedly provided
impetus for their philosophical musings. Thus, it is important to note
that Merleau-Ponty served in the French army in World War II and
suffered imprisonment and torture by the Germans (Thomas & Pollio, 2002).
Just as we must seek to understand the situational context of our
research participants’– and patients’– experiences, so also we must
consider the writings of phenomenological philosophers in light of the
war-torn lifeworld into which they had been thrust. For that reason, we
will delve further into key events of Merleau-Ponty's life a bit later.
Origins and evolution of phenomenology
Phenomenology
had originated in German philosophy but soon gained adherents in other
European countries such as France, Belgium and Holland. The historical
evolution of the phenomenological movement has been ably traced by
others (Spiegelberg, 1981; Cohen, 1987; Reeder, 1987). The movement has been characterized as a ‘set of waves’ (Reeder, 1987) in a vast groundswell of ‘antireductionist and anticonstructionist’ thinking that had begun in the nineteenth century (Spiegelberg, 1981, p.
xi). No unity was achieved within this European intellectual movement,
although there was a common aversion to the prevailing mechanistic
research paradigm of the behaviourists. Much of the European work was
unknown for some time in the English-speaking world, including that of
Merleau-Ponty, whose work was first translated into English relatively
recently in 1962 (Merleau-Ponty, 1945).
Phenomenology in nursing
Articles on phenomenology began to appear in the nursing literature in the 1970s, with early treatises by Paterson & Zderad (1976), Parse (1981), Oiler (1982) and Omery (1983).
Over the ensuing decades, phenomenology has become quite popular.
Although a number of nurses now call themselves phenomenologists, there
is considerable diversity amongst us. According to Caelli (2000),
18 different forms of phenomenology have been identified. Dominant
within nursing literature have been Husserlian phenomenology,
Heideggerian phenomenology and variants of the ‘Dutch school’. What
nurses in America, Australia and other western countries are doing today
under the putative umbrella of phenomenology is very different from the
solitary reflections of twentieth century European philosophers. While Crotty (1996) accused contemporary nurse scholars of misinterpreting European phenomenological philosophy, Caelli (2000) contended that deliberate choices were made to develop new ways of applying phenomenological philosophy to inquiry. Drew (2001,
p. 16), speaking of the legacy of Husserl's ideas, reminded us that it
is the task of researchers to decide ‘how . . . philosophic ideas are
put into action’. Silverman (1987,
p. 6) commended the new generation of American phenomenological
researchers who are marking out ‘clear and original paths’. But clarity
regarding these ‘paths’ is lacking in many published reports of
phenomenological nursing research. To wit, the link between procedural
aspects of a study and its philosophical underpinnings is often unclear
to the reader. Despite the lip service paid to Husserl, Heidegger and
other philosophers by nurse researchers, many reports of
phenomenological research devote more page space to procedure than to
the philosophy that purportedly guided it (Porter, 1998).
There is no mention of the underlying philosophical perspective in some
research reports. For example, a researcher may speak of using
Colaizzi's ‘steps’ (Colaizzi et al., 1978),
making no reference to the Husserlian inspiration for his analytic
scheme. Especially popular within nursing has been this set of steps
developed by Colaizzi, a psychology graduate student, while doing his
1973 doctoral dissertation on learning at Duquesne (Colaizzi, 1973). Nursing's prolonged allegiance to Colaizzi is puzzling. Other than a book chapter in a 1978 text by Valle and Halling (Colaizzi et al., 1978),
I find no evidence that Colaizzi ever published anything else.
Apparently he did not remain active in phenomenological scholarship.
Six years ago, Porter (1998,
pp. 26, 27) called upon nurse scholars to ‘demonstrate allegiance to
our chosen philosophies rather than adherence to procedure’. She
described her own experience of ‘being inspired’ by Husserl. I have been
similarly inspired by the works of Merleau-Ponty. Elsewhere, with my
mentor Howard Pollio, I have written about procedural aspects of the
phenomenological research method that was developed at the University of
Tennessee (Thomas & Pollio, 2002) and first introduced by Pollio et al. (1997).
Here, I focus mainly on the philosophy that guides our work. I examine
the life and thought of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, with emphasis on the
material of particular relevance to my programme of research and to the
discipline of nursing. My hope is that this introduction to the man and
his ideas will stimulate other nurse scholars to seek additional
information. We begin by examining biographical data regarding the key
events and people who influenced his philosophy.
A brief biography of Merleau-Ponty
Curiously,
given his international prominence, there is no book-length biography
of Merleau-Ponty. The facts that follow were gleaned, bit by bit, from a
variety of sources. Maurice Merleau-Ponty was born on the west coast of
France in 1908. War touched his life early, as his father, an army
officer, was killed in action during World War I. Despite the loss of
his father, his childhood, spent living with his mother and one sister,
was said to be idyllic (McBride et al., 2001). He was educated in the French lycee
system and then studied philosophy at the Ecole Normale Superieure in
Paris, where he conducted postgraduate work on the nature of perception
and met Sartre, a profound influence on his life (Priest, 1998). The remainder of his life was spent as a teacher in the lycee
system and in various universities. Along with Sartre and other French
philosophers, he began his career studying the work of Husserl (Moran, 2000).
He heard Husserl lecture in 1929 and later travelled to the Husserlian
Archives to examine unpublished papers. Although he ultimately rejected
certain aspects of Husserl's thought, he retained Husserl's descriptive
approach to phenomena and combined it with an existential ground,
deriving, in part, from Heidegger (Thomas & Pollio, 2002). His existentialist ideas are also attributed to his close association with Sartre and Camus (Priest, 1998).
The relationship with Sartre has been the topic of numerous
essays. According to most accounts, the two men greatly enjoyed
matching wits in long intellectual discussions. While in agreement about
many points, Merleau-Ponty was more concerned with science than was
Sartre (Cohen, 1987).
Although some say that Merleau-Ponty was himself a behaviourist – having once uttered kind words about John Watson (Pollio et al., 1997) – his first book took issue with behaviourism. In The Structure of Behaviour (Merleau-Ponty, 1942),
he asserted that no piece of behaviour may be reduced to its alleged
parts. He pointed out the ambiguity of behaviour, contending that any
behaviour may be given various interpretations from the perspective of
the actor or the third person observer (Priest, 1998).
Ambiguity was to become a continuing thread throughout his work. Later,
he explained that ambiguity prevails both in perception and in
self-knowledge. Time itself is not an objective dimension of the world,
but is ambiguous.
In his most famous book, The Phenomenology of Perception (hereafter abbreviated as PP) (Merleau-Ponty, 1945),
Merleau-Ponty devoted painstaking attention to everyday human
activities and situations. This focus was divergent from traditional
philosophy. In PP, he sought to refute both empiricism and what
he called ‘intellectualism’, which is more commonly termed idealism.
Empiricism is flawed because it ignores the subjective; intellectualism
is flawed because things are only understood intellectually, and the
world is reduced to ideas. In the words of Merleau-Ponty, ‘empiricism
cannot see that we need to know what we are looking for, otherwise we
would not be looking for it, and intellectualism fails to see that we
need to be ignorant of what we are looking for, or equally again we
should not be searching’ (Merleau-Ponty, 1945, p. 28). We will have more to say about PP later.
The
outbreak of World War II disrupted Merleau-Ponty's research and greatly
affected his view of freedom and other people. He concluded that
everyone is compromised in war (Moran, 2000).
In his role as a second lieutenant in the infantry, he was required to
call for artillery barrages or air attacks on enemy positions. As noted
earlier, he was captured and tortured by the Germans. After the war, in Sense and Nonsense (Merleau-Ponty, 1948), he wrote movingly of the changes in his values that ensued from these experiences. In Humanism and Terror, he wrote about what it means to be a collaborator, a traitor, or a revolutionary (Merleau-Ponty, 1947).
In the early postwar years, he became involved in radical politics. In
1945 Merleau-Ponty and Sartre collaborated in founding a journal. In
Sartre's words, ‘We [were] hunters of meaning, we would speak the truth
about the world and about our own lives’ (Moran, 2000,
p. 397). Deploring capitalism's protection of privileged groups, the
two philosophers sought answers in Marxism and Communism. But
Merleau-Ponty began to view Sartre's support of Stalin with dismay. By
1952, significant differences between the two caused an acrimonious
split, with Merleau-Ponty resigning from the journal staff. One bone of
contention was the journal's propensity for taking what Merleau-Ponty
called ‘on-the-fly’ positions about political events. He felt that the
journal should maintain a more philosophical tone, i.e. ‘try to reach
the reader's head rather than heart’ (Belay & Davis, 2001,
p. 42). The immediate impetus for Merleau-Ponty's resignation, however,
was Sartre's stated intent to prevent the journal from publishing one
of his essays.
As Merleau-Ponty became
increasingly disillusioned with both Marxism and Communism, withdrawing
from the political fray, Sartre accused him of abdicating his
responsibility. Recently translated letters are illuminating (Belay & Davis, 2001).
In a 1953 letter, Sartre chided: ‘I blame you . . . for abdicating in
the midst of circumstances where you have to decide as a man, as French,
as citizen, and as intellectual – by taking your “philosophy” as an
alibi’ (Belay & Davis, 2001,
p. 35). In his response, Merleau-Ponty asserted, ‘I have never wavered
on my wish to do philosophy, and I told you so, one day around 1948,
when you asked me why I did not give up teaching. . . . I have decided,
since the Korean War, to stop writing on events as they happen’ (Belay & Davis, 2001,
p. 40). The split between the two men was emotionally painful for both,
as shown in their 1953 letters. Merleau-Ponty deplored the ‘glacial
tone’ and ‘irate tone’ Sartre used when making comments to him about his
recent lectures and essays. Sartre defended himself by saying, ‘If I
might have seemed glacial, it is because I have always had a sort of
shyness when it comes to congratulating’ (Belay & Davis, 2001, p. 56) and he admitted that ‘I am unhappy that we disagree’ (Belay & Davis, 2001,
p. 57). Interested readers may want to seek out this exchange of
letters between the two philosophers, which provide not only some
insight into what Sartre called the ‘emptying of the abscess’ in their
strained personal relationship (Belay & Davis, 2001, p. 55) but also a glimpse of the tensions in the world in the first phase of the Cold War.
In
1953, at the age of 45, Merleau-Ponty achieved the distinction of being
the youngest person ever to be elected the chair of philosophy at the
College de France. During the 1950s he was rethinking much of his
earlier work. According to Moran (2000),
he had become especially interested in the problem of reciprocal
relations and communications with others (intersubjectivity). In his
last book, The Visible and the Invisible, published posthumously, he showed a new interest in ontological questions, such as the ‘subject–object question’ (Merleau-Ponty, 1964).
Dissatisfied with language that perpetuated dualism and dichotomies, he introduced new terms, such as intertwining, which described the inseparability of subject from world, and chiasm,
which described the ‘place in the flesh of the world where the visible
flesh also sees, where the tangible flesh also touches, and so
on. . . . This only happens at the location in this fleshly element
where there is a person. The sculpture does not feel or see itself or
the other objects in the room around it. . . . Thus, perception and
sensation are a kind of doubling of the flesh of the world upon itself.
One could think of it as the wave when it breaks and curls over. It is
the place in the wave where the water touches itself’ (Young & Davis, 2001,
p. 114). Unfortunately, he did not complete this ambitious undertaking.
Before his sudden death in 1961, he had finished only a few chapters of
the book, although others were subsequently assembled from his notes.
As McBride notes, ‘I am sure that Merleau-Ponty's thought would have
developed in exciting new directions . . . that might well have
complemented some of the new directions taken by Sartre during the years
in which he outlived his former colleague’ (McBride et al., 2001, p.
73). In my searches of the literature, I have not found a cause of
death for Merleau-Ponty. The event of his death is tinged with irony, as
he collapsed while rereading Descartes in preparation for a class he
was to deliver the next day (Priest, 1998). He was only 53.
Key tenets of Merleau-Ponty's philosophy with relevance to nursing
Perception
The
nurse researcher who works within the Merleau-Ponty tradition seeks to
discover study participants’/patients’ perceptions of their lived
experience. Merleau-Ponty's philosophy was first and always a
phenomenology of perception. He felt that traditional philosophy
misunderstood the role of perception in the formation of awareness and
experience. It is perception that opens us to reality, providing a
direct experience of the events, objects and phenomena of the world.
This direct experience is to be contrasted with thinking and language,
which deal with ideas and representations of the world (Thomas & Pollio, 2002).
All knowledge takes place within the horizons opened up by perception,
and all meaning occurs through perception. Perception is learned in an
embodied, communal environment. Humans are born into a particular
sociohistorical and cultural milieu, and immediately embedded in what
Merleau-Ponty called a ‘knot of relations’ that includes ‘all those we
have loved, detested, known or simply glimpsed’ (Switzer & Davis, 2001, p. 283).
As
children grow, they readily absorb the norms and practices of their
culture. Because of shared cultural understandings, perception of a
given entity cannot be fully understood without knowing something of the
specific culture. For example, a Japanese wife may express her anger
toward her husband by creating a disorderly flower arrangement. The
husband's ability to perceive the symbolic meaning of that flower
arrangement is predicated on his understanding of the culturally
prescribed, precise way that flowers should be placed in their container
and the proscription against direct expression of a disruptive emotion
such as anger in Japanese society. An American husband seeing the same
flowers would not perceive them in the same way.
Phenomena
appear to us as meaningful wholes. But perceived things, according to
Merleau-Ponty, are always perceived as having a certain figure or form against a background (Moran, 2000).
To explain this principle, the familiar black-and-white illustration of
the vase and two faces is often used, in which a focus on the white
portion reveals the vase and a focus on the black portions on each side
reveals two faces confronting one another (Thomas & Pollio, 2002). Similarly, figure and ground
cocreate each other in human experiences: ‘There are no figures by
themselves: All figural aspects of (perceptual) experience emerge
against some ground that serves to delineate its specific experiential
form’ (Pollio et al., 1997,
p. 13). What stands out as figural or focal to a person cannot be fully
understood without consideration of many different existential grounds.
Thus, we must consider the major grounds: Body, Time, Other People, and
World (Thomas & Pollio, 2002).
Our research method seeks a complete and careful description of both
the figural and background aspects of the phenomenon we are
investigating. The emotion of anger, for example, cannot be understood
without a grasp of both its relational and cultural context. It is an
intense bodily experience as well. It is important to note, however,
that the researcher does not use a structured interview protocol to
probe for these contexts; instead, the angry person is asked, ‘What
aspects of the experience stand out to you?’
The
interviewee's narrative reveals what is figural to him. The bodily
aspects of a phenomenon may compel the attention of some respondents
while other aspects of the experience, such as Time or World, may be
indistinct or fuzzy. In a study of chronic pain, for example, patients
seldom talked about the World (Thomas, 2000). Pain had imprisoned them, creating separation from the world. They used terms such as locked off, roped off and caged off
to depict this imprisonment that created distance from other people and
the world. As one participant explained, ‘I feel like I’m on this
island all by myself’ (Thomas, 2000, p. 692).
Figure
and ground may ‘change places’ many times during repeated experiences
of a phenomenon. In the aforementioned study of chronic pain, searing
pain was sometimes figural, obliterating a patient's awareness of
everything but the hurting body (Thomas, 2000).
On other occasions, the pain receded to a dull ache; although constant,
it did not dominate consciousness (i.e. was no longer figural).
As the body became ‘ground’, the individual could emerge from the
isolation of the pain, go out into the world and connect with other
people again.
Intentionality
The literature indicates some confusion with the term intentionality as Merleau-Ponty used it.
What
he was referring to was not plans or planning, as in common parlance,
but relatedness to the world, the integral interconnectedness between
humans and the lifeworld in which attention of humans is always directed
toward specific events, objects and phenomena (Thomas & Pollio, 2002).
We are never simply passive before the stimuli in the lifeworld. We are
engaged ‘receptors’ of stimuli. All experience takes place in relation
to something other than itself. ‘Understanding the meaning of some
experience requires us to describe the intentional stance (or situated
perspective) of the event from the point of view of the experiencing
person’ (Pollio et al., 1997, p. 8). Thomas & Pollio (2002, p.
14) provide a maxim to help researchers grasp the concept of
intentionality: ‘What I am aware of reveals what is meaningful to me.
If, for example, I enter a room and notice only the furniture, I
probably am a very different person from someone else who enters the
room and notices only the children, the food, or the artwork.’Drew (2001)
recommends that researchers consider our own intentionality (i.e. what
we find meaningful, how we are connected to the topics that we study).
We accomplish this through the process of bracketing (Thomas & Pollio, 2002),
although Merleau-Ponty reminds that it is not possible to completely
bracket all of our personal interests, assumptions and presuppositions.
Bracketing is an ongoing process throughout the course of a study.
Embodiment
Of
Merleau-Ponty's concepts, embodiment has attracted the most attention
from nurse scholars. ‘Merleau-Ponty is possibly the single philosopher
who has done the most to draw our attention to the pervasive importance
of embodiment’ (Young & Davis, 2001, p. 101). As MacQuarrie (1973, p. 93) notes,
‘The reason for the neglect of the body in philosophy lies deep in the tradition of Western thought . . . From Plato to Descartes and modern idealism, the belief has been that the true self or the real man is somehow within, and that the body is an appendage or a framework of some sort’.
Descartes argued that
‘being able to think constitutes our essence; . . . that the mind is disembodied; and . . . therefore, that the essence of human beings, that which makes us human, has nothing to do with our bodies’ (Lakoff & Johnson, 1999, p. 400).
According to Lakoff & Johnson (1999),
these Cartesian tenets influenced not only philosophy but education and
popular culture, leading to the dissociation of reason from emotion and
the downplaying and devaluing of emotional life. Much of the
contemporary anger management literature exhorts readers to employ
rational thought to control – even banish – the emotion of anger. Anger
is branded as dangerous and irrational, especially for women. If
enacted, this advice would require us to ignore the wisdom of the angry
body. But anger is generated by significant violations of beliefs,
values, or rights. The body's arousal is powerful, a call to movement
and to words that will protect one's boundaries and defend one's rights.
When silenced, the angry body remains in turmoil. Women in our study
used terms such as simmering, stewing and festering
to describe the agitation produced by anger. As noted by one research
participant, the body hurts when anger is suppressed: ‘I can tell if I
hold anger for a while . . . my anger takes the form of stress in my
neck . . . it's hidden but my body knows’ (Thomas et al., 1998,
p. 315). The suppressed anger builds over time in the body. One woman
used the metaphor of ‘a big ball’ to describe its accumulation: ‘It's
like you build up so much anger inside . . . without really sitting down
and talking about the problem that it just rolls up into a big ball and
you’re not even sure what it's really about’ (Thomas et al., 1998,
p. 316). Study participants described a sense of powerlessness when
they did not express their anger but confined it within the body. Our
research suggests that instead of stifling anger, women must acknowledge
the wisdom of their bodies and act on their anger to achieve conditions
of justice and equity (Thomas et al., 1998).
To
return to the philosophy of Merleau-Ponty, the human body is not an
appendage or a thing in the Cartesian sense. The body is the fundamental
category of human existence; it exists before there is thought (Pollio et al., 1997).
The body is, of course, the unwavering vantage point of perception. The
body, however, not only perceives but also gestures and speaks. It
moves through a world of objects that it can use for its various
purposes. The body conveys qualities of objects, such as their weight.
It gives meaning to the space around itself. As the body grows, the
meaning of space becomes modified. What is high for a child is no longer
high for an adult.
Of particular
relevance to nurses is Merleau-Ponty's distinction between the ‘body
object’, the body of medicine, and the ‘lived body’ or ‘body subject’,
the body of personal experience. It is not surprising that medical
students come to perceive the body as ‘object’, because they begin
learning about it through dissection of cadavers. Watson (1999)
relates that one medical school professor actually introduced his
students to the human body by writing ‘dead mammal’ on the blackboard
the first day of class. In contrast to this dehumanizing and
objectifying stance, Merleau-Ponty reminds us of the sacredness of the
body. If we view the body as sacred, ‘it [is] impossible for us to treat
a face or a body, even a dead body, like a thing. They are sacred
entities’ (Moran, 2000, p. 415).
When
the relationship between body and world is disturbed, a person's
existence is profoundly shaken. Merleau-Ponty illustrates this
throughout PP with accounts of injured, disabled people, such as Schneider, who can no longer organize their world (Merleau-Ponty & Smith, 1945).
Schneider, a World War I veteran, is unable to make certain arm
movements in the research laboratory because of his wounds. However, he
is able to move his arm while doing factory work. Merleau-Ponty takes
the reader through a penetrating analysis of this paradox, showing that
neither a rationalist nor an empiricist explanation will suffice.
Merleau-Ponty's insights about the body are of great significance both
to philosophy, which has been slow to devote attention to the body, and
to nursing, which has intimate knowledge of the impaired body but seldom
pauses for philosophical reflection about it.
Relationships with other people: the ‘knot of relations’
Many
existential philosophers seemed to have a rather dark view of humanity,
espousing individualism and writing disparagingly of the ‘crowd, the
herd, the mass’ (MacQuarrie, 1973,
p. 122). In contrast, Merleau-Ponty saw the benefits of connecting with
other people. He reminded us that newborn infants are first orientated
toward their mother's face, not toward objects in the world; the first
‘objects’ the infant sees are smiles (Moran, 2000).
Life thereafter is spent in a ‘knot’ or network of relations. When
referring to the Other, Merleau-Ponty used terms such as ‘my double’ or
‘my twin’, indicating an egalitarian stance. Unlike Sartre, who saw in
the social world the potential for conflict ‘epitomized in the sweaty,
mundane, empirically describable boxing match’ (McBride et al., 2001,
p. 82), Merleau-Ponty saw the potential for dialogue, through which
persons receive recognition and affirmation. Unlike Heidegger, who
warned that other people distract from the pursuit of authentic being,
Merleau-Ponty did not see others as impediments, rather as fellow
travellers in life's journey (Pollio et al., 1997).
He spoke of the intersections of his path, and the path of other
people: ‘my own and other people's [paths] intersect and engage each
other like gears’ (Merleau-Ponty, 1945,
p. xx). Recently, the daily intersections of nurses and patients have
commanded the interest of several members of our phenomenological
research team and revealed some surprising – and disturbing – findings.
In
one study, hospitalized patients longed for deeper connection with
nurses and other caregivers, but more often they experienced
disconnectedness. For example, a study participant commented on the
timing and irrelevance of questions by a nurse when the participant was
in active labour. The nurse, focused on her task of filling in all the
blanks on an assessment form, was not attuned to the figural aspect of
the patient's experience (her uterine contractions):
She stood on that side at one point during my labour and was asking me questions. And it was like, ‘Have you had any stress in your life?’ I’m having a baby! I think she meant have you moved recently or changed jobs, blah, blah, blah. It was funny, she would ask me questions, and I would be in the middle of a contraction and I’d say ‘Can I answer that in a minute?’ (Shattell, 2002, p. 225)
In
this interaction between nurse and patient, common ground was not
achieved. Dialogue, as described by Merleau-Ponty, did not take place.
Merleau-Ponty asserted that ‘In the experience of dialogue, there is
constituted between the other person and myself a common ground; my
thought and his are interwoven into a single fabric. . . . We have here a
dual being, where the other is for me no longer a mere bit of behaviour
in my transcendental field, nor I in his; we are collaborators for each
other in consummate reciprocity. Our perspectives merge into each
other, and we coexist through a common world’ (Merleau-Ponty, 1945, p. 354).
In contrast to the disconnectedness in the previous vignette, Benner (2001,
p. 68) shared an example in which the nurse, despite her patient's
initial belligerence, did persist in gaining the patient's trust and
engaging her in dialogue:
I was making my rounds. And I walked in and I said, ‘Hi, I’m Sue. You must be Ann.’ And she said, ‘What the hell is it to you? I’m so goddamned mad.’ I . . . said, ‘Well, why don’t you tell me about it?’ I knew from the beginning that there was such pain under her vile language – such intensity, almost agony. And I didn’t even know her history. I didn’t know anything about her . . . and over the next month I found out about the agony and the pain.
These
phenomenological studies provide brief but fascinating glimpses of the
intersecting paths of nurses and patients. Further studies of the
relational aspects of nursing care would be especially timely, given the
emphasis on speedy execution of tasks in today's profit-driven health
care delivery system. Current nursing literature is replete with
articles about weary nurses burning out and frightened patients feeling
abandoned. Much remains to be learned about the meaning-laden situations
in which nurses and patients meet one another and establish a dialogic
connection – or fail to do so.
Time
Earlier,
we made reference to the ambiguity of Time in Merleau-Ponty's writings.
Time is a subjective experience, not ‘a system of objective positions
through which we pass but a mobile setting that moves toward and away
from us’ (Pollio et al., 1997, p. 160). Awareness of time depends on events that happen; events are subjective, not objective (Priest, 1998).
Merleau-Ponty spoke of the ‘bursting forth’ of time – by analogy with a
flowering plant bursting from its pod. In much of everyday life,
minutes and hours pass mindlessly; Time only periodically bursts into
consciousness. For example, a patient hearing a physician pronounce the
diagnosis of terminal cancer may have a sudden awareness of the brevity
of the life span. From that point on, he may engage in a frantic
struggle to ‘make the most’ of his remaining days or months. He may be
acutely aware of the choices and limits inherent in this quantity of
time. His focus may shift to a pain-free hour, or a few moments in the
sunshine, and it is often the nurse who provides these comforts during
the terminal illness. The unit of time most salient to Merleau-Ponty is
the present. In a letter to Sartre, he explicated the differences
between the two philosophers’ views of time: ‘You have a facility to
construct and inhabit the future that is all yours. I tend to live in
the present, leaving it undecidable and open, as it is. . . . My
relationship with time happens mostly through the present’ (Belay & Davis, 2001, p. 48).
Morality
One
can find pervasive references to ambiguity in Merleau-Ponty's work,
suggesting that his philosophy could provide no guidance regarding the
Truth or the Good. However, he once defined true morality as ‘actively
being what we are by chance, establishing that communication with others
and with ourselves for which our temporal structure gives us the
opportunity and of which our liberty is only the rough outline’ (Watson & Davis, 2001,
p. 201). I find this an astute guide for a moral and meaningful life. I
find it directly pertinent to the daily practices of nurses in their
local situations, wherever they may be.
I also find a distinctly moral tone in works such as Humanism and Terror (Merleau-Ponty, 1947),
in which Merleau-Ponty pointed out the hypocrisy of democracy, noting
that societies proclaiming respect for autonomy, dignity and property
rights ‘were themselves created by violent conquests and
insurrections . . . and maintained by ongoing violence against exploited
classes on foreign soils’ (Young & Davis, 2001, p. 129).
Merleau-Ponty
deplored all such violence, envisioning a humane social world in which
dialogue would take priority over violence (Madison & Davis, 2001).
As Madison has pointed out, Merleau-Ponty was an early critic of
totalitarianism – two decades before that position became fashionable in
France – instead espousing a politics of ‘mutual recognition and
solidarity [that] was in fact the direct anticipation of the politics of
civility championed in our times by Vaclav Havel’ (Madison & Davis, 2001, p. 174).
Assessment of Merleau-Ponty's contribution
If
one is trying to pin down Merleau-Ponty, the task is much like the
proverbial impossibility of nailing down jello. He rejects both
historical determinism and absolute freedom. He rejects relativism and
dogmatism as well. He rejects both realism and idealism. He tells us
that meaning is ambiguous, mixed up with nonmeaning. In his opinion, no
amount of investigation can dispel the ambiguity of the mysteries of
nature, the world, or God. This stance may create discomfort in nurses
who wish to have ‘right answers’ to their questions. On the other hand,
how exciting it can be to thoughtfully consider diverse interpretations
of clinical or research data, remaining open to the possibility of truly
novel ways of perceiving the familiar. Adherents to the Merleau-Ponty
view of human existence must approach the study participant/patient from
the humble stance of perpetual learner, not authority figure. With a
humility uncharacteristic of academics, Merleau-Ponty referred to
himself as the ‘philosopher who does not know’. Whereas Husserl wanted
to reduce scientific phenomena to their foundational prescientific
essence, Merleau-Ponty believed that the original phenomena lie buried
in darkness in such a way that they cannot be brought to light –
although we can always erect pointers in the darkness. Our task as nurse
researchers, then, is to erect these pointers. Porter (2000)
likens the phenomenological researcher to a heliograph, a device for
sending messages or signalling by flashing the sun's rays from a mirror.
By sending participants’ messages to practising nurses, the researcher
enables nurses to vicariously experience the lifeworld of patients with
conditions such as chronic pain.
Many scholars, both within and outside philosophy, are discovering, or rediscovering, the work of Merleau-Ponty (Priest, 1998; Wilde, 1999; Benner, 2000; Moran, 2000; Davis, 2001)
Some speculate that he never received the public attention accorded his
contemporaries because of his retiring personality and difficult
language (Moran, 2000). Priest (1998,
p. 224) judged him to possess ‘neither the literary talent nor the
political dexterity of Sartre’. Nor does it seem that he exhibited the
charisma of Heidegger. Interestingly, given his emphasis on description
of lived experience, he remained noncommunicative about his own life,
revealing little about himself (Davis, 2001).
For a time, his work was unfashionable in French intellectual circles,
although now he is viewed more favourably: He is actually considered to
have pre-empted some aspects of postmodern thought. Derrida, among
others, urges reassessing Merleau-Ponty's work (Davis, 2001).
Perhaps
it should not be surprising that it took a while for American scholars
to develop appreciation of Merleau-Ponty's work, because of the time lag
before many of his writings were translated. By the time PP was translated into English in 1962, Merleau-Ponty was already deceased. English translations of other books, such as Signs, Prose of the World and The Visible and the Invisible (Merleau-Ponty & Lingis, 1964; Merleau-Ponty & McCleary, 1964; Merleau-Ponty & Lefort, 1973), appeared even later. Lakoff & Johnson (1999, p. xi), in their recent book Philosophy in the Flesh,
paid special tribute both to Merleau-Ponty and John Dewey: ‘Any book
with the words “philosophy” and “flesh” in the title must express its
obvious debt to Maurice Merleau-Ponty . . . For their day, Dewey and
Merleau-Ponty were models of what we will refer to as “empirically
responsible philosophers” ’.
Wilde (1999)
noted that scholars from nursing, medicine, anthropology, education,
psychology and sociology have been exploring embodiment as a new area
for theory development. She predicted that phenomenological nursing
research will reveal the embodied practices that enable the chronically
ill to surmount the challenges of living with limitations and assistive
technologies. I believe this potential already has been demonstrated in Wilde's (1999)
study of individuals requiring long-term urinary catheterization and in
recent phenomenological studies of ventilator-dependent children (Sarvey, 2001) and patients whose bodies have incorporated implanted defibrillators (Krau, 2002).
In their day-by-day navigation of the lifeworld, such patients have
acquired valuable knowledge and innovative skills for coping. As we tap
the wisdom of their bodies, by asking them to describe their everyday
embodied existence, we can generate new middle-range theories and
nursing interventions to help other chronically ill patients manage
their conditions (Wilde, 1999).
Likewise, phenomenological studies of emotions such as anger are
revealing the intelligence of emotions, thereby mandating a new stance
on traditional therapeutic approaches that seek to medicate or banish
them.
Conclusion
In
writing this paper, I was once again reminded of the truth of
Merleau-Ponty's observation that ‘writers experience the excess of what
is to be said beyond their ordinary capacities’ (Merleau-Ponty, 1973, p. 57).
A
sense of urgency drove me to put these words on paper at a time when my
understanding is still incomplete. But, of course, my understanding
will always be incomplete. I urge others to join the rejuvenated
dialogue about the work of Maurice Merleau-Ponty. Clearly, I believe
that the ideas of Merleau-Ponty have abundant potential to advance
nursing research. But phenomenology is not just for researchers. I
believe that all nurses can practise it as ‘a manner or style of
thinking’ (Merleau-Ponty & Smith, 1945, p.
viii), learning to listen to patient concerns in a new way, alert to
what is figural in the perceptions of their patients yet ever-mindful of
their embeddedness in a particular sociocultural context. Being invited
by a nurse to tell one's story surely benefits the patient, who often
feels lost and alone in the juggernaut of the health care assembly line.
Hearing the story enriches the nurse as well, filling him or her with
awe regarding both the particularistic and the universal dimensions of
human lived experiences of health and illness. I find that phenomenology
is transformational for those who practise it.
References
- Belay B. (2001) Sartre and Merleau-Ponty: the letters of the breakup. In: Merleau-Ponty's Later Works and Their Practical Implications: The Dehiscence of Responsibility (ed. D.H.Davis), pp. 27–59. Humanity Books, Amherst, NY.
- Benner P. (2000) The roles of embodiment, emotion and lifeworld for rationality and agency in nursing practice. Nursing Philosophy, 1, 5–19. Direct Link:
- Benner P. (2001) From Novice to Expert: Commemorative Edition. Prentice Hall Health, Upper Saddle River, NJ.
- Caelli K. (2000) The changing face of phenomenological research: traditional and American phenomenology in nursing. Qualitative Health Research, 10, 366–377.
- Carpenter D.R. (1999) Phenomenology in practice, education, and administration. In: Qualitative Research in Nursing: Advancing the Humanistic Imperative (eds H.J.Streubert & D.R. Carpenter), pp. 65–87. Lippincott, Philadelphia.
- Cohen M. (1987) A historical overview of the phenomenologic movement. Image: Journal of Nursing Scholarship, 19, 31–34. Direct Link:
- Colaizzi P.F. (1973) Reflection and Research in Psychology: A Phenomenological Study of Learning. Kendall/Hunt, Dubuque, IA.
- Colaizzi P.F. (1978) Psychological research as the phenomenologist views it. In: Existential-Phenomenological Alternatives for Psychology (eds R.Valle & M.King), pp. 48–71. Oxford, New York.
- Crotty M. (1996) Phenomenology and Nursing Research. Churchill Livingstone, Melbourne, Australia.
- Davis D.H. (ed.) (2001) Merleau-Ponty's Later Works and Their Practical Implications: The Dehiscence of Responsibility. Humanity Books, Amherst, NY.
- Drew N. (2001) Meaningfulness as an epistemologic concept for explicating the researcher's constitutive part in phenomenologic research. Advances in Nursing Science, 23, 16–31.
- Fischer W.F. (1989) An empirical-phenomenological investigation of being anxious: an example of the phenomenological approach to emotion. In: Existential-Phenomenological Perspectives in Psychology (eds R.S.Valle & S. Halling), pp. 127–136. Plenum, New York.
- Heidegger M. (19271962) Being and Time. (translated by J. MacQuarrie). Harper & Row, New York.
- Koch T. (1995) Interpretive approaches in nursing research: the influence of Husserl and Heidegger. Journal of Advanced Nursing, 21, 827–836.Direct Link:
- Krau S. (2002) ‘It's like getting kicked by a mule’: living with an implanted defibrillator. In: Listening to Patients: A Phenomenological Approach to Nursing Research and Practice (eds S.P.Thomas & H.R.Pollio), pp. 62–72. Springer, New York.
- Lakoff G. & Johnson M. (1999) Philosophy in the Flesh: The Embodied Mind and its Challenge to Western Thought. Basic Books, New York.
- McBride W.L. (2001) Merleau-Ponty & Sartre. The singular universal, childhood, and social explanation. In: Merleau-Ponty's Later Works and Their Practical Implications: The Dehiscence of Responsibility (ed. D.H.Davis), pp. 63–86. Humanity Books, Amherst, NY.
- MacQuarrie J. (1973) Existentialism. Penguin Books, London.
- Madison G.B. (2001) The ethics and politics of the flesh. In: Merleau-Ponty's Later Works and Their Practical Implications: The Dehiscence of Responsibility (ed. D.H.Davis), pp. 161–187. Humanity Books, Amherst, NY.
- Merleau-Ponty M. (19421965) The Structure of Behavior. (translated by A. L. Fisher). Methuen, London.
- Merleau-Ponty M. (19481964) Sense and Non-Sense. (translated by H.L. Dreyfus & P. A. Dreyfus). Northwestern University Press, Evanston, IL.
- Merleau-Ponty M. & Lefort C. (eds) (1973) Prose of the World. (translated by J. O’Neill). Northwestern University Press, Evanston, IL.
- Merleau-Ponty M. (19641968) The Visible and the Invisible. (translated by A. Lingis). Northwestern University Press, Evanston, IL.
- Merleau-Ponty M. (1964) Signs. (translated by R. C. McCleary). Northwestern University Press, Evanston, IL.
- Merleau-Ponty M. (19471969) Humanism and Terror. (translated by J. O’Neill). Beacon Press, Boston.
- Merleau-Ponty M. (19451962) The Phenomenology of Perception. (translated by C. Smith). Routledge and Kegan Paul, London.
- Moran D. (2000) Introduction to Phenomenology. Routledge, London.
- Oiler C. (1982) The phenomenological approach in nursing research. Nursing Research, 31, 178–181.
- Omery A. (1983) Phenomenology: a method for nursing research. Advances in Nursing Science, 5, 49–63.
- Parse R.R. (1981) Man-Living-Health: A Theory of Nursing. Wiley, New York.
- Paterson J.G. & Zderad L.T. (1976) Humanistic Nursing. Wiley, New York.
- Pollio H.R., Henley T.B. & Thompson C.J. (1997) The Phenomenology of Everyday Life. Cambridge University Press, New York.
- Porter E. (1998) On ‘being inspired’ by Husserl's phenomenology. Reflections on Omery's exposition of phenomenology as a method of nursing research. Advances in Nursing Science, 21, 16–28.
- Porter E. (2000) Educational innovations. Sparking students’ interest in the clinical relevance of qualitative research. Journal of Nursing Education, 39, 380–382.
- Pribram K. (1980) The biology of emotions and other feelings. In: Emotion: Theory, Research, and Experience: Vol. 1. Theories of Emotion (eds R. Plutchik & H. Kellerman), pp. 245–269. Academic Press, New York.
- Priest S. (1998) Merleau-Ponty. Routledge, London.
- Reeder F. (1987) The phenomenological movement. Image: Journal of Nursing Scholarship, 19, 150–152. Direct Link:
- Sartre J. (19391948) The Emotions: Outline of a Theory. (translated by B. Frechtman). Citadel Press, Secaucus, NJ.
- Sarvey S. (2001) Living with a machine: the experience of the child who is ventilator-dependent. Unpublished doctoral Dissertation. University of Tennessee, Knoxville, Knoxville, TN.
- Shattell M. (2002) ‘Eventually it’ll be over’: the dialectic between confinement and freedom in the world of the hospitalized patient. In: Listening to Patients: A Phenomenological Approach to Nursing Research and Practice (eds S.P.Thomas & H.R.Pollio), pp. 214–236. Springer, New York.
- Silverman H. (1987) Inscriptions: Between Phenomenology and Structuralism. Routledge and Kegan Paul, New York.
- Spiegelberg H. (1981) The Context of the Phenomenological Movement. Martinus-Nijhoff, The Hague.
- Switzer R. (2001) Together in the flesh. Ethics and attunement in Hume and Merleau-Ponty. In: Merleau-Ponty's Later Works and Their Practical Implications: The Dehiscence of Responsibility (ed. D.H.Davis), pp. 253–290. Humanity Books, Amherst, NY.
- Thomas S.P. (ed.) (1993) Women and Anger. Springer, New York.
- Thomas S.P. (2000) A phenomenologic study of chronic pain. Western Journal of Nursing Research, 22, 683–705.
- Thomas S.P. & Pollio H.R. (2002) Listening to Patients: A Phenomenological Approach to Nursing Research and Practice. Springer, New York.
- Thomas S.P., Smucker C. & Droppleman P. (1998) It hurts most around the heart: a phenomenological exploration of women's anger. Journal of Advanced Nursing, 28, 311–322.Direct Link:
- Watson J. (1999) Postmodern Nursing and Beyond. Churchill Livingstone, London.
- Watson S. (2001) Merleau-Ponty: the ethics of ambiguity, and the dialectics of virtues. In: Merleau-Ponty's Later Works and Their Practical Implications: The Dehiscence of Responsibility (ed. D.H.Davis), pp. 189–224. Humanity Books, Amherst, NY.
- Wilde M. (1999) A phenomenological study of the lived experience of long-term urinary catheterization. Unpublished doctoral Dissertation. University of Rochester, Rochester, NY.
- Wilde M. (1999) Why embodiment now? Advances in Nursing Science, 22, 25–38.
- Young P.E. (2001) The ineradicable danger of ambiguity at chiasm's edge. In: Merleau-Ponty's Later Works and Their Practical Implications: The Dehiscence of Responsibility (ed. D.H.Davis), pp. 101–137. Humanity Books, Amherst, NY.
More content like this
Copyright © 1999–2013 John Wiley & Sons, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)