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Bryson, Norman, Holly, Michael Ann, and Moxey, Keith, eds. Visual Theory: Painting and Interpretation. HarperCollins, 1991, 305 pp., 73 b & w illus., $35.00 cloth, $15.95 paper. Visual Theory is a much better book than we have come to expect from the process of turning conference proceedings, especially interdisciplinary ones, into collections of articles. The promoted reasons for such conferences are familiar: to bring together writers from a variety of institutional perspectives, around some central problem(s) currently relevant to them all, with the resultant commentary on each other's work advancing the discussion, or at least representing the current state of differing positions on the organizing issue. And equally familiar by now are the normal results of such proceedings: a disconnected series of predictable posturings, followed by shouting across disciplinary boundaries, with "commentary" reduced to either indictment and counter-assertion, or the more genteel swerving of the subject round to the topic of whatever new article, however irrelevant, one happens to be working on at the moment. Something with a certain interest as spectacle, perhaps, but nothing to take home and actually read. The current book is a welcome exception to this law of academic discourse. The contributors include people from departments of Art and Art History, Philosophy, English, Anthropology, History, and Psychology, and they actually talk to each other. The format of the book is that of seven papers, each followed by one or two commentaries. The papers are by Linda Nochlin, Norman Bryson, Rosalind Krauss, Richard Wollheim, Michael Podro, Arthur Danto and David Summers, and they are all worth reading. The commentaries are for the most part of an unusually high order: genuinely thoughtful and responsive to the papers whose arguments they not only criticize, but carry further in unanticipated directions. (Particularly helpful are the commentaries by Ludmilla Jordanova, Stephen Melville, Shelly Errington, and the much-missed Flint Schier.) In addition, the volume is more than just a disparate collection of papers. In one way or another, all the papers concern themselves with the nature of visual representation, and all of them register the pressure (whether by way or resistance or embrace) of the various sign-oriented discourses of the humanities following in the wake of structuralism, usually with a historical/political edge to them, and which now go by the hyper-generic name of 'theory'. Not that this is cast as a debate between various factions ranged either 'for' or 'against' 'theory' in the 'humanities'. For in this particular context it would be even more misleading than it normally is in a more strictly literary one to think that it is the legitimacy of theorizing as such that is at issue. It is clear, for instance, that although the papers by Wollheim and Summers reflect little influence of recent Franco-American theoretical products, they are nonetheless as fully 'theoretical' as any writing on these subjects. Instead, it is a concern with a particular theoretical possibility, that is, the applicability of a basically linguistic (or semiological) model of meaning as applied to the visual arts, and the question of any wider consequences thereof, that links most of the essays in one way or another. Bryson's article, for example, sketches "the outlines of a semiological approach to painting",(p. 61) and argues for the social and political importance of this choice as against anything more naturalistic, cognitive, or psychological. And the essay by Krauss is a diagnosis of couple of recent instances of what she sees as the "co-optation of linguistics with all its intellectual glamour and prestige [...] in the service of the old humanist subject"(p. 80). Wollheim, on the other hand, offers a distinctly non-conventionalist account of the nature of visual representation, while Summers writes against what he sees as "linguistic imperialism" in the theory of the visual arts. Most of the other papers also make contact with these questions, and the reader does come away with an overall sense of what people see as being at stake in these issues from different points in the current criticalphilosophical scene. And indeed, the question of the linguistic model does seem an especially useful place to locate several lines of disagreement in recent thinking about literature, philosophy, and the visual arts. While it is true that philosophers raised within a generally Anglo-Saxon framework may well find some of the articles here, particularly among the defenders of the linguistic model, to be of more symptomatic than diagnostic value, nonetheless their heuristic and documentary importance should not be underestimated. The influence of the linguistic model for thinking about cultural phenomena generally is too pervasive to be denied, and rarely will the reader find its rationale, or the assumed stakes behind it, presented as clearly and forcefully (if briefly) as it is in, for instance, the essays of Krauss and Bryson. This alone would make this a useful text in courses on contemporary aesthetics and cultural theory. That said, it must also be noted that the case for the linguistic model in cultural theory is no stronger than it ever was. The Introduction by the editors leaves no doubt as to their commitments here. They contrast two approaches to visual representation, the first of which "argues that representation is always a matter of convention, not of essence", the second of which appeals to, among other things, the psychology of perception and thus (as they see it) tries "to define an essence of art" (p. 1). dichotomy: Very much gets loaded on to both sides of this the denial of the conventionality of all representation amounts to the denial of the need for interpretation, the absence of history and the downplaying of social difference, and an endorsement of not only essentialism about art but also of a timeless and universal scheme of human psychology. This is a tangle of very disparate issues, of course, but a highly influential tangle, and sorting it out will be made easier by the clear presentation much of it gets in this book. And, even if one thinks, as I do, that the debate invoked by this dichotomy is dominated by confusion among separate questions, this presentation makes it clear why the stakes have been thought to be so high in the debate over something so academic as the arbitrary nature of the sign. It is, of course, not the case that the denial of the conventionality of visual representation commits one to any of the positions it is saddled with above. A non-conventional account of the nature of representation can be as historically or politically oriented as any other in its account of the operation of representations within society. But it will not construe all power relations as conventional (rather than causal) power relations. It may emphasize cultural disparity and the need for interpretation of the visual, but it will not see interpretation as anything like a process of de-coding. The rejection of conventionalism need not even embrace any particularly psychological account of visual representation, for it may find what is most crucial to its account at the level of cultures and histories. Only history will be construed as something causal and contingent, rather than as the shifting of arbitrary sign-systems. The editors claim Linda Nochlin for the conventionalists, and for all I know that may be her genuine view of the matter. However, her very clear and useful overview of feminist issues in art history makes little, if any, appeal to a linguistic model of meaning in painting, and the force of her critique would lose nothing at all if it were couched in explicitly non-conventionalist terms. The subordination of women, inside and outside of painting, is, after all, a matter of genuine social relations, and these relations are contingent, historical, and causal ones, quite unlike the arbitrary relation between the word 'tree' and the objects it names in English. Part of the attraction of the linguistic model is simply that of hitching one's disciplinary wagon to something big and systematic that promises some real results. And in the case or semiology, it is not hard to discern the fantasy of a science of signs providing one with a Theory of Absolutely Everything: since all knowledge is mediated by signs, any trained reader of (literary or other) signs must be in a position to assess and critique any and all knowledge claims. But it is not clear that any important consequences follow from the arbitrary nature of the linguistic sign, or that it is even a particularly interesting claim. As Saussure himself noted early in the Course in General Linguistics, "No one disputes the principle of the arbitrary nature of the sign" (part one, chapter one, section 2), and he was hardly the first person to point this out. And he also acknowledges that even linguistic arbitrariness is a relative matter of degree. signs are more arbitrary than others. Some linguistic And outside of language he believes there are "completely natural signs", and claims that "one characteristic of the symbol is that it is never wholly arbitrary" (op. cit.). Naturalism in the theory of visual representation is by nature a theory committed to the contingency of the relations and processes it studies, should never have been opposed to attention to the historical or social. By contrast, the very commitments of conventionalism leave it with little to tell us about the role of power and contingency in cultural relations generally. At this point in history it should not be possible for one to assume that to call something natural (let alone simply a causal matter) is to claim that it is not subject to change, indeed, to intentional, politically directed change. Neither should it be as easy as it seems to be to assume that human conventions are somehow more subject to change, or their contingent historical origins somehow easier to discern, or their political motivations or implications somehow more direct or readable. Even when implicated in a debate whose terms need to be replaced by different ones, the papers in Visual Theory often provide ways for thinking our way into something better concerning the relations of painting, philosophy and the rest of culture. Richard Moran Department of Philosophy Princeton University