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Aesthetics

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Aesthetics, Fall 2007; Jeffrey Wattles, instructor

Final project report

            The final project report discusses the interface between practice and theory—your experience of artistic living and the academic dimension of our course. 

            Part I.  The experiential adventure began from the first week of class, and the report is expected to make it evident that your experience of artistic living was not just a quick afternoon of trying something so that you’d have something to write about.  The report can document confusion, false starts, educational failures, frustration, very small steps of progress, or a major breakthrough.  You are not graded according to whether or not you had a major breakthrough.  What matters is to show effort that has been persistent and sincere.  The first part of the paper will be a four-page description of your experiential adventure.  Write it in such a way that your narrative is relevant to the discussion you give in Part II.  Once again, if the English is substandard, your grade will reflect that.  (Yes, you can use the first person singular in your writing—smile!).  See the introductory paragraphs of the Arts Project document http://www.personal.kent.edu/~jwattles/esthproj.htm

            Part II.  The second part of the paper is to construct a four page commentary on the Part I experience report from the perspectives of four figures: two philosophers from the text and two persons featured in the biography reports.  You will have to use your creative imagination to construct what these persons might have to say about your experience report.  For the philosophers you should use brief quotes (a sentence or a few sentences max) and then comment accurately on their meaning as applied to Part I.

            In order to participate properly—and engage in the teamwork that enables the others to participate properly—you need to upload your biography report to a website accessible only to participants in the ethics and aesthetics classes.  First, make sure to include—right at the beginning the full title, author, and publication data of the book you are reporting on (many of you left this out).  Second, make sure to correct the English errors that I noted in your paper (in most cases I did not write many comments, and I’d be glad to go over your paper more carefully with you in person if you’d like).  Third, to help your fellow students, add a paragraph right at the beginning of your biography report indicating what main themes you featured in the report so that your reader does not have to read the whole thing in order to see whether there is something that s/he can use for commentary on his/her paper (some of you already have introductory paragraphs that serve this purpose just fine as is).  Finally, go to https://vista.kent.edu/ ; click on Kent State University; login in the normal Flashline way (as prompted); go to the Aesthetics course; then you will see two links: on the right (if you have Windows Media Player) you can see a handy video of how to upload your biography report; if you do not have Windows Media Player, you will be able to succeed by simply clicking on “biography report” and following the instructions there.  DO THIS RIGHT AWAY SO THAT PEOPLE CAN.  Do not upload your experience reports to this site.

            Part III.  Then reply to the commentaries in a final page or two.  Build constructively on what you presented in Part II. 

            Evaluation is based on evidence of sincerely following the instructions, Part by Part.

Aesthetics, Fall 2007; MWF 9:55, Bowman 217; Jeffrey Wattles, instructor

            The main goal of the course is to introduce the student to the history and logic of philosophy’s ways of thinking about the aesthetics of the fine arts.  The secondary goal is to explore biographically the virtues or strengths that persons develop in the arts.  We approach these goals through readings, lectures, class discussions, quizzes, and a term project designed to integrate the course.

Text: (1) Stephen David Ross, ed., Art and Its Significance, 3^rd edition, State University of New York Press, 1994.  ISBN: 0-7914-1852-9.

Evaluation.  Evaluation is based on, first, participation.  We are a community of inquiry, and our interaction has a life of its own; so you are expected to attend regularly, be on time, have the reading done, and be ready to participate (10%, with a qualification: you can miss up to four classes and still get full participation credit, but if you miss eight classes—for whatever reasons—you cannot pass.  Thus the institution of “excused absences” does not apply in this course; if you like, you can say that you have four free absences to cover sickness, car problems, and the like).

Second, there is a term project to be submitted in two parts: a book report and an experience report (30 points each).  If you feel you have a reason to request an alternative to any of the projects, please speak with the instructor.  Papers must be decently written to receive a C or above.  It’s a good idea to familiarize yourself with the Writing Center’s services and its website: http://dept.kent.edu/english/WritingCent/writngcenter.htm .  Speaking of communication, the University obliges you to check your KSU e-mail address.  If I have messages to send to the whole class, e.g., about changing a syllabus assignment, or keeping in touch in the case of an epidemic, I will use those addresses.  Third, there are three quizzes (including the final--10 points each), mostly multiple-choice; quizzes may cover material from earlier quizzes as well as new material.

My office hours are MWF, 11:00-12:00 and T/R 10:45-11:45 (Bowman 320H) and by appointment (330-672-0276; e-mail given in class to keep off the internet and decrease spam.

            In accordance with University policy, if you have a documented disability and require accommodations to obtain equal access in this course, please contact the instructor at the beginning of the semester or when given an assignment for which an accommodation is required.  Students with disabilities must verify their eligibility through the Office of Student Disability Services (SDS) in the Michael Schwartz Student Services Center (672-2972).

            The Philosophy Department Grievance Procedure for handling student grievances is in conformity with the Student Academic Complaint Policy and Procedures set down as University Policy 3342-4-16 in the University Policy Register.  For information concerning the details of the grievance procedure, please see the Departmental Chairperson.

SCHEDULE OF ACTIVITIES

August

Week 1

27  Introductions.

29  Please read the dialogue titled Ion in the section on Plato in the Stephen David Ross text, Art and Its Significance, pp. 45-55.  Judging from this dialogue, why do you think some people consider Plato to be an artistic philosopher?  In what senses do we see Socrates being artistic?  Is Ion inspired?

31  Republic, pp. 9-18 and 32-44 (the full page 32).  Be sure to read both parts for today.

September

Week 2

  5  Discussion continued.  Turn in the name of the person in the arts whose biography you plan to read for the term project.

  7  Please read the section from the Symposium, pp. 56-63, as carefully as you can, realizing that in a key passage on pp. 62-63, the Greek word “body” is mistranslated as “form”—a totally different concept in Plato’s philosophy.  Read a better translation in the class webnotes: http://www.personal.kent.edu/~jwattles/esthetic.htm

Week 3

10  . . . discussion continued.

12  Read both selections by Aristotle, pp. 66ff.

14  . . . discussion continued.  Turn in the title of the biography of the person in the arts you are going to read along with the author, date, publisher, and number of pages—and begin reading.

Week 4

17  For more on emotions in art, read Tolstoy, pp. 177.

19  For more on catharsis, read Vygotsky, pp. 521.  The selection is brief but packed.

21  Read the webnotes on David Hume for how to experience a work of art.  Quiz one.

Week 5

24  Introduction to Kant, pp. 95-103.  How does our sense of the beautiful relate to our cognitive dealing with truth and our practical commitment to goodness?

26  Kant, pp. 103-113.  How can we claim universality and necessity for “subjective” judgments of the beautiful?

28  Kant, pp. 113-120.  In what way might the sublime be said to go beyond the beautiful?

October

Week 6

1  Kant, pp. 120-33.  How has the concept of genius functioned in the arts?

3  Finish the Kant selection.  What are the relations between beauty and morality?

5  Clive Bell, pp. 185ff.  What can be said for pure form as conveying what is essential to art?

Week 7

 8  Nietzsche, pp. 168ff, first selection.  What are the Apollonian and Dionysian tendencies in the arts and how may they be unified?

10  . . . Second selection.  What are the relations of art, morality, and life?

12.  . . .

Week 8

15  Dewey, pp. 203-211.  What makes a unified experience different from the general flow of experience?

17  . . . 211-217.  What is the significance of the feeling of “belonging to a larger whole” that we experience with art?

19  . . . 217-220.  Is the experience of art the paradigm for experience generally?

Week 9

22  Book report due.  Lecture on Walter Benjamin.

24  Adorno, 539.  How do we find social dynamics operative in the arts?

26  . . . What is to be said about escapism in use of the arts?

Week 10

29  Stephen David Ross, 300-309.  What kinds of contrasts do we find unified in the arts?

31  . . . 309-321.  What kinds of discourse about the arts do are common and possible?

November

 2  . . .

Week 11

 5  Heidegger, 254-264.  How does the work of art set forth a world?  How does the tension (cf. contrast) of earth and world manifest in the work?

 7  . . . 264-72.  What do truth and beauty have to do with the work of art?

 9  . . . 273-80.  What is the special place given to poetry?

Week 12

12  Goodman, 237ff (first selection).  Does it help to change the question from “What is art?” to “When is art?”  What parameters of symbols does Goodman distinguish?

14  Goodman, 247ff.  How does Goodman’s idea of truth in art compare with other philosophers’ ideas?

16  . . .

Week 13

19 Term paper due.

21  Discussion of student papers.

Week 14

26  Derrida, 411-420 (with lecture on the other parts of The Truth in Painting).  Is there a sharp demarcation between inside and outside in a work of art?  What kinds of truth does Heidegger distinguish?

28  . . . 429 ff. Letter to Peter Eisenman

30  . . .

December

Week 15

 3  Danto, pp. 470ff.  How does theory matter to art? 

 5  . . .  Can two paintings that look identical really be different?

 7  . . .  How do contemporary artists refer to Plato by making beds as art?

Final Examination.  Monday, December 10, 10:15-12:30.  This will be a comprehensive quiz, followed by discussion of the results of the project.

Here are some of philosophy's subdisciplines in the realm of truth:

• Philosophical theology

• Philosophy of religion

• Metaphysics or ontology—reality-ology or being-ology

• Philosophical anthropology: What does it mean to be a human being?

• Philosophy of mind

• Epistemology—knowledge-ology

• Logic: the study of correct ways of reasoning

• Philosophy of science

• Philosophy of nature

Plato (Greek, 427-347 B.C.E.)

Our class on the Ion took wings from your fine preparation and participation and from these questions:

How many of you have cultivated skill in the arts or are cultivating skill in the arts?

What is involved in that cultivation?

How many have performed?

What is involved in excellent performance?

According to what we find in the Ion, what is involved in an art in the classical Greek sense, a  techne (pl. technai)= art, craft, skill?

            Knowledge. 

            In order to interpret poetry, what kind of knowledge to you need?

            Knowledge of what the poet is setting forth. 

            What are the two alternatives that are explicit in this text that explain Ion’s great success?  (1) he has techne, including the full knowledge implied; (2) he is inspired from a superhuman source.

            Sometimes we talk about an inspired performance.

Has anyone ever had an experience of being ín the zone?

Has anyone ever had such an experience during an aesthetic practice?

This experience has recently been termed “flow (high challenge meets high skill in high performance)” as a result of the work of psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. 

Listen to an account of an experience of flow by Laurence Olivier in his book On Acting, pp. 86-88.

“I think one of the best performances I was involved in was probably at Elsinore in Denmark.  Pouring, drenching rain meant that we could not open outside as we had intended to, and consequently, after a hurried discussion, it was decided that we would perform in the ballroom, which meant a rapid restaging.  Tony (Tyrone) Guthrie, our director, was busy organizing things for the real opening, and something had to be arranged about seating for future performances, so he was heavily involved in administration.  He left it to me to set it up and rehearse the new moves around the strange area that was now to accommodate us.  As he went off, he said, “Fix it for me, Larry.  Just place it all as you think best.”  So I did.  All the movements had to be changed, so all the lovely invention was left to me.  As you can imagine, I was thrilled to do it and, of course, enjoyed myself wildly.

There is nothing better than a group of actors being presented with a problem of this kind and having to improvise.  When time is drifting away and the performance is getting closer, somehow the release of adrenaline creates an excitement that runs through everyone, from the leading actor/actress to the maker of the tea.  The entire company pulls together with the one object in mind.  It is at such times that you can ask for the impossible, and get it.  “I’m afraid the only way you can play this scene is by hanging from the chandelier, dear boy.”  Without a moment’s hesitation, the reply would come back, “Of course—no problem.”

Great God! there is something amazing about them, the band of players.  There is a comradeship that I have experienced only once elsewhere, but not so happily, in the Services.  Somehow every performance seems to be enhanced in times of unexpected difficulties; there is an edge, a fine edge that hoists the players, even the least inspired, onto another level.  All the actors’ motors have to be running, but in a low gear for greater acceleration.  Nobody dares get a moment wrong.  Whereas laziness, even boredom, may have crept in before—and this is very understandable when you think in terms of standing night after night on the end of a spear with somebody else delivering the dialogue that you feel you could do better—that boredom, for a moment, is forgotten and the contribution becomes genuine, energetic, and electric.  Everyone becomes a Thoroughbred, muscles alive and alert.  The vibrations are high, and this will affect the audience as well.  What they witness will be a night that they will always remember.  “Were you there that night at Elsinore?  I was.”  . . . . 

Whether or not what the audience sees is good we will never know, but the energy that is directed toward them will engulf them in its euphoric state.  In Elsinore that night, the actors were heroes, every man Jack of them.  I know—I was right in the middle of it.  A dignity and excitement was achieved, an atmosphere in which no one falls on his arse unless it is intended.  Everyone thrills with a sense of achievement and importance—and quite rightly.  The “one for all” society syndrome.  Above all, the performance was spontaneous.” (86-88)

             Back to the Ion.  There is a third alternative: Ion has a skill in imparting emotion to an audience—see p. 50.

            Shall we as readers fall into contempt for Ion based on this description? 

            Olivier again:  “A good actor is working on at least three levels at all times: lines, thought, and awareness of the audience” (26).  “The actor must keep an audience engaged by constant changes of inflection; he must keep them forward in their seats; he must have an acute sense of when he is boring them, when they are about to yawn or look at their watches, wondering when the interval is coming; he must know the instant he has lost their interest” (134).  “To me acting is a technical problem.  It’s also an emotional problem.   You’ve got to feel, which is a great test for the imagination.  If you’re an artist, you’ve got to prove it . . . .

“The actor should be able to create the universe in the palm of his hand” 24.  “The actor creates his own universe, than peoples it—a giant puppet master.  The trick is to make the audience feel that they are observing reality, and this isn’t easy, because to convey the word that has been placed in your mouth to a great number of people you have to exaggerate subtly, ever so slightly highlight.  Lead the audience by the nose to the thought.” (29)

Regarding the selections from the Republic . . .

            First, here's some background in ancient Greece of “the quarrel between philosophy and poetry.”  Poetry in general (poiein = making) is distinguished from poetry as a specific techne (art, craft, know-how).  “There is more than one kind of poetry in the true sense of the word—that is to say, calling something into existence that was not there before . . . but all the same, we don’t call them all poets, do we?”  Poetry is “the one particular art that deals with music and meter”[as they pertain to speech].  (Plato Symposium 205b)

Some ancient Greeks regarded the best poetry as inspired by a superhuman source (e.g., a “muse”).  The Greeks themselves cherished no holy book, and they did not take religion as seriously as the peoples of the Middle East who have since then believed themselves to have a divinely revealed book.  Nevertheless, they did cherish their poets, especially Homer and Hesiod, as the literary sources of their traditions about the gods.

The poets conceived of the gods as similar in form to human beings, anthropomorphic, superhuman in power and immortality, normally invisible, yet able to take on various appearances, so as to be able to pursue their strategems under the guise of some human figure.  They attributed excellent qualities to the gods, and also behavior humanly scorned: murder, adultery, castration of the father by the son, mutual intrigue, petty jealousies, vengeance.

The “quarrel between philosophy and poetry” emerged as philosophers challenged traditional ideas about the gods.  The philosophers deanthropomorphized the concept of God.  Xenophanes (fl. 530 B.C.E.) wrote, “Both Homer and Hesiod have attributed to the gods all things that are shameful and a reproach among mankind: theft, adultery, and mutual deception” (Fragment 11).  “Ethiopians have gods with snub noses and black hair; Thracians have gods with grey eyes and red hair.”  “Of oxen (and horses) and lions had hands or could draw with hands and create works of art like those made by men, horses would draw pictures of gods like horses . . . .”  He moved in the direction of monotheism, not seeking revelation but persistently inquiring, gaining results that were plausible at best, not certain.

Heracleitus called his hearers and readers to wake up to the logos common to all and to God as the unity of opposites.  He wrote, “Homer deserves to be flung out of the contests and given a beating,” and “Much learning does not teach one to have insight; for it would have taught Hesiod.”

Socrates challenged the coherence of Euthyphro’s notion of acting to please the gods, interrogated contemporary poets and found them unable to explain the meaning of their work, showed up the tragedian Agathon as a charming narcissist, showed his respect for the Delphic oracle by trying to refute it, and challenged Athenian smugness on the basis of his own philosophic insight and spiritual experiences.  Socrates was sent to his death by an Athenian jury, having been brought to trial by Anytos, a representative of Athenian poets, and Meletus, who (taking Socrates for a sophist) accused Socrates of atheism and of corrupting the youth.

Plato criticized the poets insofar as they offered emotionally influential images without basing their work on knowledge of the truth of the eternal forms: the just, the beautiful, the good.

            Consider the following two arguments (philosophers use the term “argument” to refer to a sequence of statements such that the conclusion is said to follow from the premise(s).)  Argument analysis is one of the skills cultivated by philosophers.

            This first argument is a simplified reconstruction of Plato’s argument in the Republic.

Premise 1: If poetry portrays divinities as unworthy (e.g., being deceitful and petty and engaging in morally repulsive acts such as adultery), or if poetry portrays sons of the gods as flooded by cowardly emotion, then such poetry tends to corrupt human character.

Premise 2: The state should censor poetry which tends to corrupt human character.

Conclusion: Therefore, the state should censor poetry which portrays divinities and sons of the gods as unworthy.

Please observe that one can reject the conclusion because of disagreement with the second premise, while being open to whatever grain of truth there may be in the first premise.  Remember that there is often some degree of irony in what Socrates says, and that, in the end, Homer is accepted back in, so to speak.  Thus the prohibition against such poetry in Book II melts away in Book X.

Now consider a second argument.

            Premise 1: Plato held that there are eternal and divine standards of truth, beauty, and goodness and that poetry should be written with regard for these standards.

            Premise 2: Plato advocated censorship, which is a repressive and totalitarian betrayal of human liberty.

            Conclusion: Whoever makes a claim to eternal standards of excellence is suspect of having a tendency to be repressive and totalitarian.

            Some people talk as though they might be implying some such argument; but the argument is invalid, for one reject censorship and thereby avoid the conclusion, even while upholding premise 1.

            I have chosen problematic arguments from opposite sides of the question; wisdom involves being able to find grains of truth wherever they may arise, and to be critical of errors that may crop up in arguments that may seem to provide support for one’s own conclusions.

To consider the issue further, let’s ask whether young persons or adults can be harmed by what connoisseurs would classify as a work of art?  If so, what follows?  Let’s try to break down this emotional question into a variety of questions in order to think in a more thorough way about the issue.

Can persons be harmed?

What concept of human nature, interests, or destiny is involved in the notion of harm?

Can persuasion (obvious or subtle) promoting anti-values harm persons?

Does art inevitably influence our valuations?  Does it sometimes try to do so?

Can art harm persons?  By cheering on deliberate revolt against what is acknowledged to be good?  By denying the reality of central values?  By appealing to one-sided valuations?  By dogmatism in promoting values?

In discussing these questions many people make empirical claims where, research in psychology and related fields is relevant.  In seeking wisdom, it is well to recognize when empirical claims are made or implied, to consider what kinds of research are relevant to those claims, and to learn something about the research or at least to acknowledge our ignorance of the research. 

Is there an opportunity for parents, schools, and communities to give guidance regarding the arts?

Is there an obligation for parents, schools, and communities to enforce restraints regarding the arts?

            Is it a mistake to be paternalistic towards someone as old as a teenager?  Does it matter how many persons are harmed or how likely the harm is, or how many persons value the exercise of freedom more liberally defined?

Do artists have responsibilities?  To truth (which may be different from popular opinion)?  To beauty (as distinct from what is sensational?)  To goodness (not the same as moralism)?

To recipients have responsibilities?  To be open, to persevere, to appreciate, to screen (for self or others), and to make considered judgments about what they see?

            Do critics (including teachers, exhibition commentaries) have responsibilities?  What sort?

Regarding the selection from Plato's Symposium

Please see notes on the web: http://www.personal.kent.edu/~jwattles/sympos.htm

In the Symposium translation used in our text, Jowett butchers a key passage on p. 62.  Here's a better translation by Alexander Nehamas and Paul Woodruff: “First, if the leader leads aright, he should love one body and beget beautiful ideas there; then he should realize that the beauty of any one body is akin to the beauty of any other and that if he is to pursue beauty of form he’d be very foolish not to think that the beauty of all bodies is one and the same.  When he grasps this, he must become a lover of all beautiful bodies, and he must think that this wild gaping after just one body is a small thing and despise it.”

            In the excerpt from the Symposium in the Ross anthology, Socrates will speak first of the being and nature of Eros, and then of his works (56c).  Diotima proved Eros neither beautiful [“fair”] nor good.  Intermediate.  Neither mortal nor immortal, but one of the spirits [daimon] mediating and communicating and interpreting between mortals and the gods (57b).  Originated in Plenty and Poverty (57c).

            Eros is desire for the beautiful . . . to possess the beautiful (58c) [one of the ways toward the good and happiness which each desires for himself (59b)], which they can only love if they take it to be good (59c).  

            Eros is “love of the everlasting possession of the good” (59c).

            Eros seeks “birth or procreation in beauty, whether of body or soul” (59d)

            Love is of immortality (60b): physical . .

            Those who are more pregnant-creative in their souls than in their bodies (61c) bring forth wisdom and virtue, which brings order to states and families; and they devote themselves to the education of young persons.  

On the Ion, note the difference between the knowledge for which Homer is reputed and the knowledge Homer lacks.  Nor is Ion inspired, despite S’s ironic praise, since he shows himself a crafty manipulator of crowds.  Nevertheless, the image of inspiration flowing from the muse, to the poet, through the e.g., rhapsode (performer), to the audience is suggestive of an insight in philosophy of mind to which Plato never obviously returns in the dialogues.  Note the concept of techne = know-how (a certain knowledge is involved, not merely a knack), also translated craft or art (but not to be confused with poesis, making).

In the Republic, grasp that Socrates’ critique (how much of this character’s critique is Plato’s?) of “mimetic” poetry (mimesis=imitation, in Kant’s terms, representation) is that it fails to seek the truth of the things that it copies from the natural world and thus characteristically tends toward simply arousing the lower emotions to gratify the masses and tends toward error in conceiving the character of divinity (God should be perfect, good, wise, beautiful, all knowing) and the grandeur of genuine character achievement (the hero should not be afraid of death, but resolutely courageous).  Socrates is continually dropping words that suggest his self image as a poet, but one who seeks the truth (the eternal forms—you may look at the early portion of this: http://www.personal.kent.edu/~jwattles/forms.htm though it was never required nor presented as a handout, but some of the thoughts there were expressed in the lectures).  The eternal pattern (the bed in heaven—how marvelous to sleep on! [irony here?]) is deliberately conflated with the eternal form (bedness/the structure of the bed that the carpenter must know (but not the mimetic artist).  Then there is the bed that the carpenter makes and the bed represented in painting.  Presumably, the Platonic artist would make a point of learning something of what the carpenter knows (if not the techne, at least the blueprint). 

            Plato’s opponents were the sophists, who denied the forms, denied any eternal truth, any transcendent beauty or goodness, and who asserted cultural difference (in today’s terms, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”=the version Kant criticizes, “Everyone has his own taste”) as the last word on the question of standards.

            Plato does not teach the aesthetic view that “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”  That view not only makes the point—which all philosophers recognize—that people differ in what they find beautiful.  That view also claims that there is no standard beyond individual opinion (anyone’s view is as good as anyone else’s).  Plato holds that there is an eternal form of beauty, “the beautiful itself,” which is not a subjective affair of what any person happens to prefer.  According to Plato, some are more advanced than others in their realization of beauty.  What I did say was that Plato recognizes the grain of truth in that theory when he implicitly acknowledges that people’s views differ regarding the beauty of bodies, customs, and so on.

            Let me also clarify that Plato never says that everything is beautiful.  The beauty in beautiful bodies is akin, he says; but this is not to say that every body is beautiful.

            Even the Navaho concept of walking in beauty implies that we humans have a responsibility to restore beauty.

Relativism

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

“One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter.”

These quotes raise the issue of relativism—the philosophical view that truth is relative to the person holding the particular view.  According to relativism, “She believes that P” means “P is true for her”; and to say, “P is true” may be misleading insofar as it omits the reference to the person(s) holding the belief that P is true.  Truth is just an affair of personal or cultural belief.

Beliefs differ of course, depending on personal differences, cultural differences, and so on.  The fact of differences in belief or opinion is acknowledged by everyone in the debate.  What distinguishes the relativist is the relativist’s view that the fact of differences in belief is given decisive philosophic importance.  In other words, it doesn’t make sense to talk of truth except as the view of one side or other of the debate.  In other words, there is no standard of truth, no ideal standard, no divine standard, no cosmic truth to which various views are more or less adequate.  Opinion is all there is. 

            The non-relativist replies: just because people differ doesn’t mean that one of them can’t be wrong.  When there is clearly a right answer to a particular question, we see that the fact of disagreement doesn’t make any difference about what’s true.

            Relativism may be extended from judgments about what is true to judgments about what is beautiful or good.  Thus there is no standard of beauty, just preferences; it would not make sense to say that one person’s aesthetic judgments are more mature or better cultivated than someone else’s.  Beauty and goodness are not real; they are merely the projected correlates of preferences.  Thus if we express a view about the moral horror of Nazism, a relativist may say, “Well, that’s the belief of your culture.  The Nazis felt otherwise.”  Note: as a statement of fact, the observation is indisputable.  The relativist uses that observation of fact as though it humiliates the critique of Nazism.

            Some criticize relativism for making rational disagreement impossible, since, according to relativism, there are no criteria to which one can appeal that are not merely relative to one’s personality or culture.  If we disagree, we can either tolerate the other (e.g., the Nazi’s are free to do their thing—who are you to judge?!), or we can fight.  However people do sometimes effectively criticize and persuade one another, and older and poorer ideas do sometimes eventually get changed.  This also happens across cultural differences.  It would seem that people’s value intuitions have more in common than the relativist is prepared to acknowledge.

            Nevertheless, it is important to explore how people may reasonably differ in their judgments about truth, beauty, and goodness.  One need not embrace either relativism or a monolithic and static conception of truth, beauty, and goodness.  To some extent one may posit convergence, as evolutionary progress gradually brings views closer and closer.  To some extent, one may recognize differences that tend to endure; perhaps there are certain aspects of many-sidedness that are structural, deep, and are properly represented by differing perspectives on truth, beauty, and goodness.  Insofar as these perspectives are intelligible to all, e.g., tendencies to emphasize certain values more than others, then the prospect for mutual comprehension and cooperation in seeking wisdom remains open.  Insofar as such differences are thought to be incommensurable, the relativist is vindicated.

Interlude: The Suppliant Maidens by Aeschylus--a drama of human kinship

            The Suppliant Maidens by Aeschylus (525-456 B.C.E.) begins with the arrival of a ship bringing fifty Egyptian women and their father/spokesman to the shores of Argos.  They seek protection from pursuing Egyptian men who would force them into “impious marriage.”  The women introduce themselves to Pelasgus the king of Argos by revealing their kinship with the Argives, their special claim to protection.  They narrate their genealogy, a lineage that Aeschylus may not have meant the discerning among the audience to take literally.  To portray these dark Egyptian women as kin to the Argives, as equally the descendants of Zeus, is Aeschylus’ spiritual insight.  In modern terms, the universal fatherhood of God is the source of the brotherhood of man.  Even after accepting that the women and their father are originally also Argives, the king has a decision to make, and he is in the throes of uncertainty.  From the outset we were reminded that the will of Zeus is “not easily traced.  Everywhere it gleams, even in blackness.”  The king acknowledges, “I am at a loss, and fearful is my heart.”  The king’s dilemma is that if he protects the women, he risks destructive war with the pursuing Egyptians; if the king does not protect them, the women threaten suicide upon the altar for suppliants, a move that would bring and divine retribution.  What is needed to clarify the decision?  “We need profound, preserving care, that plunges/ Like a diver deep in troubles seas,/ Keen and unblurred his eye, to make the end/ Without disaster for us and for the city . . . .”  In the moment of decision, the crucial factor is “the height of mortal fear,” making the king unwilling to offend Zeus, who is also a suppliant like these maidens.  As the king turns to appeal to the people (who sustain his request), he expresses his discovery of the principle of goodness that governs this situation: “Everyone,/ To those weaker than themselves, is kind.”

Aristotle

Nicomachean Ethics.

Three functions of reason:

1.     theoretical (theoria): grasping the eternal truths which are so basic that they cannot be derived from any higher premises  and reasoning rigorously to conclusions.

2.     making (poesis): bringing something into existence; techne as know-how.  Note that poesis in the broad sense includes all the arts (just like “art,” in the broad sense in English).

3.     doing (praxis): fully human action, pursuing reflectively chosen goals through reflectively chosen means, exercising excellence (e.g., courage, self-mastery, justice) so as to activate the potentials of a noble life.

Poetics. 

Classification and description of the arts is the basis of (philosophic) science.    Comedy, Epic, Tragedy (definition, p. 70) (which has

the unity of time “endeavors to keep as far as possible within a single circuit of the sun” (70),

the unity of plot: an action that is complete in itself, a whole with a beginning, middle, and end (72);

the unity of character: the person must act in a way that would be probable or necessary, given that type of character.

“The character of the protagonists should be consistent, and the action should be the sort of action those characters would produce under those circumstances. The time of the action should also be unified, so that the plot can be held in memory as one action.”  http://www.rowan.edu/philosop/clowney/Aesthetics/philos_artists_onart/aristotle.htm

November 7, 2005.

“Imitation” (mimesis) means setting forth, representing in a broad sense (not necessarily copying).  The term does not have the connotations of superficiality that it has in Plato.  Neither is Aristotle as idealistic as Plato.  The poet represents actions of persons with various kinds of character.  Note that even when the things themselves are painful to see, “we delight to view the most realistic representations of them in art” (68).

            The Suppliant Maidens by Aeschylus drama begins with the arrival of a ship bringing fifty Egyptian women and their father/spokesman to the shores of Argos.  They seek protection from pursuing Egyptian men who would force them into “impious marriage.”  The women introduce themselves to Pelasgus the king of Argos by revealing their kinship with the Argives, their special claim to protection.  They narrate their genealogy, a lineage that Aeschylus may not have meant the discerning among the audience to take literally.  To portray these dark Egyptian women as kin to the Argives, as equally the descendants of Zeus, is Aeschylus’ spiritual insight.  In modern terms, the universal fatherhood of God is the source of the brotherhood of man.  Even after accepting that the women and their father are originally also Argives, the king has a decision to make, and he is in the throes of uncertainty.  From the outset we were reminded that the will of Zeus is “not easily traced.  Everywhere it gleams, even in blackness.”  The king acknowledges, “I am at a loss, and fearful is my heart.”  The king’s dilemma is that if he protects the women, he risks destructive war with the pursuing Egyptians; if the king does not protect them, the women threaten suicide upon the altar for suppliants, a move that would bring and divine retribution.  What is needed to clarify the decision?  “We need profound, preserving care, that plunges/ Like a diver deep in troubles seas,/ Keen and unblurred his eye, to make the end/ Without disaster for us and for the city . . . .”  In the moment of decision, the crucial factor is “the height of mortal fear,” making the king unwilling to offend Zeus, who is also a suppliant like these maidens.  As the king turns to appeal to the people (who sustain his request), he expresses his discovery of the principle of goodness that governs this situation: “Everyone,/ To those weaker than themselves, is kind.”

David Hume (Scottish, 1711-1776), Of the Standard of Taste

            How can we sharpen our intuitive appreciation for beauty in the fine arts?  This, I propose, is a legitimate and helpful question to help us use Hume’s classic essay in this course.  The core of Hume’s answer is at the bottom of p. 87 (paragraph 23).  He discusses an objection on p. 88 (par. 24-27) and a major qualification 89 (par 28.

Introduction, waking up the question. 

“On account of the great variety of taste, which prevails in the world . . .” (p. 78, par. 1) “it is natural for us to seek a Standard of Taste; a rule, by which the various sentiments of men may be reconciled; at least, a decision, afforded, confirming one sentiment, and condemning another: (p. 80, par.6). 

Two common views checkmate each other: (1) that every sentiment is right (p. 80, par. 7), and that some writers are obviously superior to some others (p. 80, par. 8).

The inquiry begins anew on p. 81, par 9.  The rules of composition are based upon experience and are “general observations, concerning what has been universally found to please in all countries and in all ages.”

But people often do not make judgments of taste accurately, since “those finer emotions of the mind are of a very tender and delicate nature, and require . . . many favorable circumstances to make them [operate] easily and [accurately].  In order to judge beauty one needs

“a proper time and place”;

the imagination must be in a proper situation

 . . . and mood. 

“a perfect serenity of mind,

[with one’s thoughts collected],

[paying proper] attention to the object. [p. 82, par. 10]

Homer pleases universally; when the obstacles to proper judgment are removed, beauties are robustly manifest (p. 82, par.11).

            There are “certain general principles” [principle: a very broad term, not restricted to a proposition; it can also refer to a cause or an origin] of approval and disapproval. 

1.  One’s senses must be healthy and unimpaired; even one’s general health affects one’s responsiveness to beauty.

2.  One needs an uncommon delicacy of imagination (p. 83, par. 14-15), which is a mental sensitivity to qualities in objects that produce particular sentiments.  Nothing escapes the notice, every ingredient in the composition is perceived; thus one may produce general rules or acknowledged patterns of composition, which a true critic should be able to identify in each case in which it appears (16).  Delicacy of taste, a quick and acute perception of beauty and deformity, can best be detected by its response to works of art that are universally recognized as great and universally acknowledged principles (p. 84, par 17).

3.  One needs lots of practice with many works, moving beyond initial impressions by coming back to the work a number of times, evaluating the merit not only of the work as a whole but of each of its parts (p. 84-85, par. 18-19).

4.  One needs experience comparing different types of beauty, higher and lower (p. 85, par. 20).

5.  One must be free of prejudice so as to be able to set aside one’s own perspective to adopt that of the audience for whom the work was intended (which feat may take quite a bit of study), with due consideration for the purpose of that type of work and for the way the parts of the work form a unity (pp. 86-87, par 21-22). 

Indeed, good sense, sound understanding, is needed “to discern the beauties of design and reasoning, which are the highest and most excellent.”  (One must judge the accuracy of the reasoning that is implicit or explicit in the work and whether the characters speak appropriately to their character and circumstances) (p. 86-87, par 22-23)

6.  "The joint verdict" of such superbly qualified judges (what they agree on) is "the true standard of taste and beauty.”

A difficulty follows: But how can you find such judges?  There will be disputes about that.  Response: As in other disputes, do your best, bringing forth the best arguments you can muster, while you “acknowledge a true and decisive standard to exist somewhere,” namely, something that really exists as a matter of fact. (p. 88, par. 24-25)  Actually, it’s not as hard as it seems, because great art stays recognized long after fashions in philosophy and theology have changed (88, 26).  The great ones are so distinguished “by the soundness of their understanding and the superiority of their faculties” that they effectively teach others, who recognize them (88, 27).

            A significant qualification follows: there remain two sources of variation in judgments of taste, and there is no standard to decide between them: (1) the different inclinations (“humours”) of different men, some preferring love poetry to epics, some comedy to tragedy, and (2) “the particular manners and opinions of our age and country” (89, 28-30).  These differences do not affect the discernment of beauty, but they do affect the degree of approval given to particular works.  Of course we tend to prefer works of our own place and time, but we learn to stretch our appreciation to works of other places and times—except when we find our ideas of morality and decency violated by the standards implicit in, say, Homer; in such a case, we can not help seeing the work as in some degree inferior due to the base standards of morality and decency implicit in it (89-90, 31-32).

            It’s different with the differences of “speculative opinions” (i.e., in philosophy, theology, and religion), which change so rapidly, that we should simply learn not to be upset by such differences (91, 33-35).  However, when religious principles lead to bigotry or superstition, when they pervert moral sentiments or “intrude themselves into every sentiment” (91-92, 34-36), we cannot avoid having such differences affect our opinion of the beauty of the work.

Kant (Prussian [before Germany became a nation state], 1724-1804)

Notes from Douglas Burnham, An Introduction to Kant's Critique of Judgement

Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2000 [note the British spelling]

Rousseau posed a challenge for Kant: how to show that reason was not an artificial and distorting constraint on our good, natural spontaneity [compare Taoism] (4).

There are, of course, differences between the beauties of nature and the beauties in art, but “their commonality goes right to the heart of the experience” (41).

Our enjoyment in repulsive art is on account of some sort of positive value that we find in it (42f)

Beauty is not a distinctive property of an object, but sometimes Kant speaks as if it is.  “Beauty is not a natural property” (57-58).

Kant seeks to unify his philosophy, whose parts are indicated in four primary questions:

What can I know?

What ought I to do? 

What may I hope? 

What is man? 

Kant sees judgement as the unifying link between theoretical and practical philosophy, enabling “philosophy to be unified I its purpose by coordination towards the final or highest purpose of man” (37).

In Kant’s logic, “there are four basic formal characteristics that a judgement can have: quantity, quality, relation and modality” (45).

Critique = “an analysis which attempts to establish, for a mental ‘power’ or ‘faculty’, the range of applications of that ability which make sense and thus are legitimate.” 8

Aesthetics = (1) in the broad sense, regards the sensible aspect of our cognition of nature; (2) in the narrow sense, regards the sensible objects valued as art or as being beautiful (40-41).

Taste = “our ability to judge natural objects or works of art to be beautiful” (42)

Pleasure = “The feeling of an enhancement of life” (43).  Pleasure and pain are the only presentations that one cannot make into a concept (54).

A priori = a philosophical expression that means something is absolutely independent of any ‘ordinary’ event or thing, that is, independent of any event or thing which can be observed or studied as being either within my conscious mind, or in the world around me.” (17)

Transcendental argument = works by showing that if a given concept were not valid according to a principle, then a certain type of experience (which we obviously have) would not be possible) (23).  The “transcendental method . . . seeks to investigate [the faculties of the mind] by showing their role as a priori conditions of any experience” (39).

Judgement = “a mental act which in some way decides whether a thing is this or that.  But there seem to be different types of judgment.  A ‘determinate’ judgment is one that has a concept in advance and simply applies it to a thing.  And ‘indeterminate’ judgement is one that creates the concept in the same act as making the judgment.  A judgment of sensual interest works on the basis of m y entirely subjective tastes.  A teleological judgement sees the holism of [e.g.,] a living organism in terms of purposes and not in terms of the straightforward cause and effect relations of natural science.  Finally, an aesthetic judgement judges a thing ( such as an alpine meadow, or a novel) to be of aesthetic value.  The last two types function in peculiar ways: they neither have, nor create, a determining natural concept of the thing; nor are they entirely subjective in their validity.  Judgements with these characteristics (teleological or aesthetic) Kant calls ‘reflective’.  [They draw on judgement’s own inherent resources, not on concepts derived from outside, so are a reasonable place to seek the apriori legislating principle of judgment.] (30).

“An aesthetic judgment (or judgement of taste) means a judgement which ‘connects’ a feeling of pleasure to the mere experience of something, and accordingly calls it ‘beautiful’, or ‘sublime’.”  (44)

In our presentations of objects are

• Content =  colour, scent of flower, sound qualities of musical instruments, sumptuous fabrics in a palace (may highlight beautiful form—or upstage it).

• Form = properties expressible “only as space or time,” e.g., delicate and graceful shape, the arrangement of trees and hills in the view, the flower, arrangement of notes in birdsong or music; the play of forms in the dance, or the mere architectural design of the palace.

Our response can be focused on

• The agreeable (pleasure that is merely subjective, not universal)—this is one kind of “interest”

• The ethical—this is another kind of “interest”

• The Aesthetic: that which has universal appeal, free of interest in the agreeable and the good

Disinterested = a quality of aesthetic judgements meaning that they are free of interests pertaining to what is agreeable or to interests pertaining to ethical concerns.  In judgements that are “interested” we care about the existence of the object.

Universality (second moment) = Aesthetic judgements behave universally, that is, they involve an expectation or claim on the agreement of others ‘without a concept’ (#9).  This universality is distinguished both from the mere subjective evaluation of judgements such as ‘I like honey’, and from the strict descriptive objectivity of judgements such as ‘Honey contains sugar and is sweet’.  Judgements of reflective taste behave as if they were objective; also a universal, they are communicable” (49-50).

Purposiveness without purpose (third moment) = “Why do we feel pleasure in the beautiful at all?  Pleasure seems to be the result of some attainment of a purpose, but the beautiful has no purpose.  Rather, Kant says, it is the mere purposiveness of the beautiful for cognition in general that serves as if it were a purpose.” (Burnham, 72)

            Beauty is without regard to any external purpose whatsoever (e.g., a purpose beyond a thing which it may be intended to serve).  Beauty is either free or dependent (a function of something else’s function—the noble deed has a beauty to it that is dependent on the ethical quality of the deed).  Burnham gives a series of examples leading our intuition gradually to an example that enables us to grasp what purposiveness without purpose might be: (1) walking in the woods, we find a typewriter, and immediately observe the purpose behind the manufacture of this artifact; (2) walking further, we come upon a stick that has obviously been carved, but for exactly what purpose, we cannot determine.  (3) The third example is what Burnham offers to help us get the idea of purposiveness without a purpose: coming onto a beach, we find some lines of poetry in the sand; if we can eliminate the possibility that someone has written those lines, and are left with only the possibility that the random action of the waves has done this, then the “words” merely resemble linguistic communication.  What we initially took for poetry we can no longer accept as such, however much we may value it considered as if it had been consciously produced. 

Ideal = the full realization of a thing’s purpose—not observed in nature, but theoretically possible for a human being who fully acts in accord with the moral law.

Necessity (fourth moment) = the judgement cannot be otherwise, given the human capacity called “common sense”; the necessity is singular and exemplary [the judgement, strictly speaking applies only to single objects which exemplify beauty, not to classes of things].  [There is no concept which would give people a universal rule under which objects could be subsumed under “beauty” the way rabbits can be subsumed under the empirical concept of “rabbit.”] 

Common sense = a feeling for the beautiful shared by humans (an a priori but subjective ‘principle’ of taste—the principle or rule with which judgement legislates for our mental faculty of feeling); common sense is publicly communicated  (56).  Kant “also suggests that common sense in turn depends upon, or is identical with, the same faculties as ordinary cognition, that is as those features of human beings which make possible any experience whatsoever.” (60)

 Table 1 The Faculties of the Mind (p. 10)

The parts of sensibility

1.  Sensation [Empfindung] Kant understands to be both passive and lower or dependent.  In sensation we are presented with colours, sounds, feelings of warmth, hardness and so on.

2.  Pure intuition [Anschauung] (passive, hier or independent), does not refer to some kind of “sixth sense’.  Rather, the faculty of intuition is Kant’s name for the source of our a priori presentations of the form of space and time.  Importantly, Kant argues that this form is quite different from the ‘content’ of sensation.

3.  Reproductive imagination [Einbindungskraft] (active, lower) is our ability to see things, h ear things, touch things, and so on, when they are no longer there.  Reproductive imagination also allows us to form associations between different things we have experienced at different times.  For example, the colour of this room resembles that of a room in which I once stayed in Paris.

4.  Productive (or sometimes ‘free’) imagination is both active and independent. . . .  It is not bound to previous sensations or intuitions, or at least not to the laws of association that govern the reproductive imagination.

            We can think about the world around us (theoretical cognition), we can have feelings, we can have and act upon desires.  These Kant calls ‘faculties’ or ‘powers’ of the mind. . . .  These achievements . . . are made on the basis of certain activities or sources of ‘presentations’ that Kant calls the ‘cognitive powers or faculties’.  There are three kinds of these linked to the above three achievements, respectively: understanding, judgement and reason.  A fourth cognitive faculty is sensibility which includes the imagination.  Each of the above is split into lower and higher parts.  “Lower’ means that the faculty is entirely a function of nature and subject to its laws, for example the laws of psychology.  “higher’ means that the faculty is independent of natural determination, thus functioning in some way ‘prior’ to natural laws.  The process of critique, then, requires the investigation of how one cognitive faculty (perhaps together with the others in a merely supporting role) achieves one of the faculties of the mind, and thus also what kind of validity and range of application the result has.”  (16)

The Sublime

Anything awesome, including the Great Pyramids in Egypt and the huge cathedrals of Europe, as well as a great storm on the ocean, can engender an experience of the sublime—“the feeling of, or associated with, the overwhelmingness of an object.”   “The distinction between the beautiful and the sublime had . . . been made, on similar if not identical grounds, in ancient philosophy.  The sublime occasioned by a natural object or scene has a “strange combination of familiarity and unfamiliarity” (88).  Kant neglects other types of aesthetic experience, tragic, comic, picturesque (89). 

            Two stages can be articulated in the experience of the sublime: the “unpleasant” aspect and then the particular pleasure of the sublime. 

            The mathematical and dynamical sublime.  The mathematical sublime is occasioned by the overwhelmingness associated with something that is extremely extensive in space or time, “outraging” our imagination “because we cannot ‘take it all in’ at once” (91).  There are two aesthetically interesting moments in coming up with, and trying to apply, a unit of measurement.  First, in coming up with a unit, we must take something we can (physically) experience.  Second, regarding objects that occasion the experience of the sublime, we could not begin to imagine that we could ever possibly encompass the object in question by repeated applications of our unit of measure.  Since we can, however, measure galaxies, we must bracket our intellectual-scientific [or go beyond?] take on things in order simply to experience (as “poets do”) how greatly, say, the night sky exceeds the magnitude, say, of my body—“that through which and that with which I sense, and also, equally importantly, that which senses; that is, the sensible aspect of me” (92).  In fact, as a sensible, embodied being, if I try to “construct an intuition of a whole object, this requires sense, memory, and imagination”; in the case of a cat, I cannot master the full detail of the thisness (particularity) of the cat (93).  The sublime is not merely the colossal.  The “absolutely large” object (that (i) overwhelms imagination, or  (ii) frustrates the attempt to grasp it as a whole and as a fully detailed particular, or (iii) is formless) “is presented only in feeling, initially, the feeling of displeasure at the breakdown of sensible cognition” (95).  It is as though a certain counter-purposiveness is at work (96).  In the dynamical sublime, it is the overwhelming power (not magnitude) of the object that occasions the experience of the sublime.  One could potentially be swept away by it, but fear is merely potential or not overriding. 

            In the second stage of the experience, the mathematical sublime arouses the rationality of totality—not exhibited in sensory cognition, the totality of all nature, the totality of the conditions or causes that finally produce what we observe, including the idea of the ground of that totality (God).  The dynamical sublime arouses the rational idea of freedom—transcending natural factors that might be thought to cause or determine one’s action to such an extent that one would effectively lose one’s freedom.  The mind can  “feel the sublimity, even above nature, that is proper to its [human] vocation.”  “The demand of reason for self-transcendence of will is thus related to the demand of reason to obey moral law.  Through it, we are shown to belong to a transcendent ‘community’ of supersensible beings, created in the very image of God” (100).  The conflict experienced at phase one now becomes welcomed as purposive on account of its driving the mind to such heights, that bring with them their own kind of pleasure.  It is easy to forget, especially, the insight of reason associated with the dynamic sublime, and cultural civilization (with “education, religion, philosophy, and so on”) is in fact necessary if humans are to experience it at all (100-101).

The Critique of Judgment (instructor's notes)

Introduction

Some knowledge is empirical, a posteriori (=after experience), e.g., this is caused by that.  Some knowledge is a priori (even before you try to check it out in experience): you know that events have causes.

A purpose is a concept of an object that brings that object into existence.   We see something as purposive when—as far as our understanding can tell—it fits in an order of things that can only be the result of the acts of a mind with a purpose.  (97)

First Book

Analytic of the Beautiful

First Moment

Of the Judgment of Taste, According to Quality

#1.  The judgment of taste is aesthetical in the sense that it refers to the pleasure (or pain) in the subject—not to a quality in the object.

#2.  Aesthetic satisfaction is disinterested (this is the quality of the judgment) in the sense that it prescinds from (takes no account of) my appetites or practical interests.  “Disinterested” does not imply “impersonal” or “cool”; nor does it imply any distanced attitude when the person is involved in practical matters.

#3.  If I’m responding to something as pleasant, some interest of mine is being gratified; but to find something beautiful is different from that.  [But notice: the beautiful does please.]

#4.  If I appreciate something as good, whether good as a means to something else or good in itself, I have some interest in it.

#5.  The judgment of taste is contemplative, and is without interest in the existence of its object.  Satisfaction in the beautiful is free in the sense that it is neither caused by a pleasant sensation nor obliged by moral reason.

Second Moment

Of the Judgment of Taste, According to Quantity

#6.  To judge that something is beautiful is not merely to say that I happen to like it (because of some peculiar feature of myself); rather it is to imply that anyone and everyone (this is the quantity implied in the judgment) who beholds it would find it beautiful.

#7.  People are content to find different things pleasant.  We do sometimes speak of taste in matters of what is merely pleasant.  Aesthetic judgment pertains in the first instance to single objects (this flower, this painting), but without setting up a concept from which a universal criterion could be derived.  “There can be no rule according to which anyone is to be forced to recognize anything as beautiful.”  Of course one may generalize and say, “Roses are beautiful.”  To make a clearly aesthetic judgment, separate off everything belonging to the sensory enjoyment of the pleasant and the moral respect for the good and see what satisfaction is left.  “The beautiful is that which pleases universally without [requiring] a concept.” [Kant will elsewhere say that there is a concept, but it is not determinate (definite or specific in any way).]

Third Moment

Of the Judgment of Taste, According to the Relation of the

Purposes Which Are Brought into Consideration in Them

No definite purpose is cognized in the beautiful object, though it is “purposeful” (in conformity to a purpose if we could know that there was an artist, e.g., an Author of nature, whose purpose was to give us this particular kind of satisfaction): to arouse a pleasurable play in our powers of imagination (perception) and understanding (non-cognitive thinking about it).  The object (e.g., flower) seems “preadapted to our judgment,” as if it were purposely designed to give us aesthetic satisfaction; but there is no purpose that reflective judgment can assert.

Fourth Moment

Of the Judgment of Taste, According to Modality

            The judgment of beauty is necessary, since—if a person judges correctly—she judges on grounds that every person has, i.e., the capacities of imagination and understanding.

A colloquial approach to Kant's four qualities of the beautiful

“Ya gotta love it” captures a lot of what Kant wants to say.  I like to take Kant as offering an analysis of language as much as anything.  If A says, “I like it,” and B says, “It’s not my cup of tea,” there’s no contradiction between them.  If A says, “It’s beautiful,” and B says, "It's just a sentimental appeal to emotion," there is a contradiction between them.

“Ya gotta love it”: “gotta” implies the necessity of the judgment.  It’s not just, “Try it, you might like it”; it’s try it, you’ll like it.” 

“Ya” (if said of an indefinitely large group) connotes universality—everyone’s gotta love it.  That’s two out of Kant’s four defining predicates.

Now if this judgment is about what the speaker takes for beautiful, the speaker is implying that there’s some appeal here that’s not simply a matter of what happens to gratify our particular passions or our practical needs (moral and otherwise).  (Not that there’s anything wrong about our passions or practical needs—just that beautiful adds something not included in predicates that refer to those satisfactions.)  This is what Kant has in mind with his outdated word, “disinterested.”  Don’t get hung up on the word.  Get what he’s after.  Here is where we find the limit to the usefulness of the phrase, “Ya gotta love it,” to help a student get an intuition of what Kant is up to.  “Love” may very well connote a response to what gratifies the appetites or practical needs.  For this reason, I don’t want you to use this phrase, “Ya gotta love it” in your papers.  I simply use it as a ladder (pun intended).  Yes, there are problems with Kant’s claims, but there is also an important core of intuitive plausibility to the claims, and that’s what I’m trying to convey here.  First understand, then criticize.

Last (I’m obviously not following Kant’s sequence here), Kant gives voice to a kind of free play that beauty releases.  Don’t wrestle with the definitions of “imagination” and “understanding” so much that you fail to pick up intuitively what he’s getting at.  You are free from cognitive striving.  You are free from practical effort; therefore you're judgment is disinterested.  You can "simply" enjoy this beauty in your mind.  That’s the main thing.

            Kant centers his philosophy on his insight into, and conviction of, universal humanity: in and through all our differences, we have the same basic structure of mind: the capacities of sensation, imagination, understanding, judgment, and reason.  To map these out clearly and in their complexity, to recognize their limits, and to realize what they can and do accomplish, is the philosopher’s task.

Two types of sublimity:

A. The infinite (“mathematically sublime”) suggested by some natural phenomena.

The sublime is what is absolutely great, great beyond all comparison.  This can be quantitative greatness, overwhelming, colossal size, mathematical sublimity.  The understanding measures quantities, but this the sublime surpasses the understanding.  When we find ourselves in the presence of something whose size we could never measure, our feeling of being thus overwhelmed arouses our sense of a higher faculty beyond the understanding (which deals with sensory objects).  The infinite is a concept of a sublime totality, but trying to think this concept is problematic (a progress without limit has come to completeness).  Therefore, rather than trying to think nature as an infinite totality, we shift gears and simply say that nature is sublime in those of its phenomena which, when seen, bring with them the idea of its infinity.

            B. “Nature, considered in an aesthetical judgment as might that has no dominion over us, is dynamically sublime.”  [In Greek, dynamis means power.]

Though not every thing that arouses fear is sublime, everything in nature that gives rise to the experience of the sublime in nature has overwhelming power so as to rouses some fear; but fear is transcended when the mind is not swamped by our being immediately physically carried off by the tornado, tsunami, hurricane, Niagara Falls, and we can feel the soul powers mobilize their sublime dignity that shall not be overwhelmed by the power of natural forces.  (Cf. in religion: a faithful believer does not fear even an omnipotent God whose power he has no occasion to resist.)  “Bold, overhanging, and as it were threatening rocks; clouds piling up in the sky, moving with lightning flashes and thunder peals; volcanoes in all their violence of destruction; hurricanes with their track of devastation; the boundless ocean in a state of tumult; the lofty waterfall of a mighty river, and such like—these exhibit our faculty of resistance as insignificantly small in comparison with their might.  But the sight of them is the more attractive, the more fearful it is, provided only that we are in security; and we willingly call these objects sublime, because they raise the energies of the soul above their accustomed height and discover in us a faculty of resistance of a quite different kind, which gives us courage to measure ourselves against the apparent almightiness of nature.”