I recently gave a paper on F. W. J. Schelling’s aesthetics and their expression in early 19th century German culture and art. One of the primary points concerned Schelling’s ideal for the role of extrinsic meaning in an artistic work. In his Philosophy of Art Schelling describes the ideal:
The painting is to fulfill only the inner requirements of being true, beautiful, expressive, and universally significant such that in any case it can do without that accidental attractiveness resulting from the knowledge of the particular empirical event portrayed. It is equally erroneous for the art to flatter either learnedness or the lack of it.
Essentially, while the Romantic artwork was expected to carry extrinsic meaning (meaning to be found in its history or cultural context), the extrinsic meaning that “results from the knowledge” of the painting’s subject is unnecessary. Recently, it has occurred to me that the same ideal seems to play in modern art, it is part of the common modern aesthetic. Take, for example, the following picture:
It is an amazing shot. First, the light is stirring. The picture frame cast in shadow in the left background creates its own powerful metaphor. The whole background, an obvious opportunity for a symmetrical frame, is wisely left askew creating an softly disorienting effect. Next the blurred hand (and its gesture) in the foreground shifts the viewers attention to the woman’s face which, although partially cast in shadow, is sharply in focus, even as the subject is looking away as though in her thoughts she is somewhere else. The shot (and the captured expression) reveal that while the woman’s prime has passed, she still maintains a passion and fierceness.
Further, the art of the shot draws the viewer into two places at once. On the one hand, there is this woman’s world—her photographs and memories, her fears and hopes. On the other there is the intimacy that the photographer feels for this woman. When one considers the photographer, the subject of the shot goes beyond what the woman might be thinking or saying. The furrowed brow and intensity of expression change from an aging woman’s passion to an expression of character as perceived by the photographer.
The fact that this analysis is independently supported by the picture’s historical events brings it within the realm of Schelling’s ideal for art.
The picture is of my grandmother, taken by my cousin. And while, in my experience with her, my grandmother was always soft-spoken and loving, I think that the family realized the potential for her fierceness. It was rooted in the fact that this woman had the chutzpah to open her own business in Northeast Philadelphia long before that was even remotely expected of a wife and mother. Here she is in front of her Deli:
(This picture is not composed, the person taking it is just snapping a shot, but look at the pride in my grandmother’s face.) With her camera, my cousin has managed to capture a character in my grandmother that I’d only heard of and never actually seen.
It strikes me that a portrait seeks a higher purpose than a picture. It not only expresses more about its subject than a mere picture (an expression which, I agree with Schelling, doesn’t require knowledge of the subject’s history or context), but it also imbeds the character of the artist within. But you don’t have to believe me, I am biased, look here. Judge the picture according to the people “in the know.”
The Portrait
by Jane Flanders
What I saw had so little to do with me,
or so I thought. I was the lens,
the clear glass through which all passed,
or was I a mirror, a still, sullen pool?
A delicate instrument? A recording device?
I could have accepted that.
Sometimes, to escape from the brightness
I closed my eyes and felt my way through rocks,
shells, driftwood, seeking that sixth sense
of the blind. Or tasted fruit as if I were nothing
but lips, tongue, gullet. But the gold juice,
the air I sucked up pure, appeared on canvas
tinged with blood. No one had ever seen such
fleshy flowers, such landscapes of bones.