Aesthetics
If you Google "Dualism" you will be given a list of definitions, many of which are associated with philosophy or religion. The simplest and most direct definition I found was:
"the division of something conceptually into two opposed or contrasted aspects".
You'll also find a statement that sustained exposure to dualism can contribute to stress and anxiety. If I understand the term correctly, I would have to say in retrospect that there was a lot of dualism going around in the 1960s.
During the Vietnam War, 9 million men enlisted in the U.S. Armed Services; while somewhere between 3 and 4 million took steps to escape the service (including those who deserted, were conscientious objectors, refused to register, refused induction, fled to other countries, went to prison or went underground).
To obtain a conscientious objector status, one had to demonstrate a sincere objection to participation in war in any form by reason of religious, ethical or moral beliefs. In addition, a claim for CO status could not be "an abstract critique of war" since a belief that war is illogical or bad policy was irrelevant. In essence, a CO status meant that war wasn't okay for you, but it was peachy keen for everybody else.
The phrase "in any form" meant your objection to war couldn't be selective by objecting to one war and not others. This took any critique of the Viet Nam war off the table.
I found it interesting that Robert McNamara, the U. S. Secretary of State who orchestrated the war, took a much simpler way to express his thoughts about Viet Nam. Granted, it was 30 years too late, but he finally summed it up with, "we were wrong, terribly wrong". Gee Bob, ya think?
Initially, I had chosen to avoid the draft by continuing on to graduate school. The opposing aspect to this was that I had to avoid completing a degree or I would lose my student deferment.
Later, I adopted a different strategy where I simply called in sick. The U.S. Government was prepared to go to war but unprepared to deal with anyone claiming to be too ill to make it to their induction physical. It took 6 full months for the government's administrative machinery to reschedule a missed physical. Every 6 months for 3 years, I would call in to the induction center on the morning I was scheduled to appear, and tell them I was sick. They would have to reschedule the physical to a future date, so I would be healthy enough to be sent off to Viet Nam and be killed.
The pièce de résistance was of course when I went to Kaiser one night with a sore back, and returned with a letter written by a Vietnamese physician that pronounced me as unfit for military service.
While I was trying to maintain my student deferment, I continued with several areas of study in graduate school so as to avoid accumulating sufficient credits in any one of them to qualify for a degree. In addition, with classes related to art, I was careful to seek out those that required the least amount of talent. Figure drawing was out of the question but anything in the area of design or theory would do nicely. I was going through the Cal State Los Angeles catalog trying to put together a minimum of 12 units when I came across:
ART 507 Aesthetics – The principles of art, beauty and taste; the creation and appreciation of beauty.
This sounded ideal but I needed to make sure the instructor wasn't another Constance Perkins. I attended the first class meeting and the instructor seemed fine. He was in his 50s, made his way through the material by asking questions, and never voiced an opinion or made a judgment of any kind. At some point I got a chance to see some of his artistic work. The work consisted of abstract drawings, made with a few, very faint pencil lines on white paper. At first glance, the paper appeared blank. You would have to get close up to the work to be able to see the lines. There were 3 to 6 lines to a drawing and the lines did not suggest any forms or shapes, they were simply lines. The lines looked as though they had been transferred from an EKG print out but by someone with poor motor skills. The work was just like the instructor – quiet and enigmatic.
Our weekly class discussions and the course materials made it clear that there was no consensus for any definition of art or beauty. In response to "What is art?", there were two schools of thought. One saw art as an experience – the experience the artist has as they create the work, and the experience the observer has as they view the work. The other saw the work itself as art – be it the Mona Lisa or Campbell's Soup Cans.
The only other thing I recall clearly was the final exam. We were asked to write an essay that prescribed the ideal education for artists. You had the option of turning in something you completed at home, or using the final class meeting to write your essay. I had finished my essay a full week in advance of the final class. There obviously was no right or wrong answer with this type of assignment.
I had written something predictable and uninspired. I knew that my essay as written would be acceptable, but somehow I couldn't let go of it. I continued to revisit the assignment to see if there was a definitive best way to educate the artist. If it is indeed true that there is no means by which art can be judged, then how does one provide feedback to a student? Without any feedback, how can education take place? If feedback is provided to students it can't help but guide them in a direction. Any evaluation will introduce bias. How do you properly educate students in art and beauty if neither can be defined?
For almost a full week, there was rarely an idle moment when my head wasn't wrestling with this subject. It got to the point where I couldn't stop thinking about it. From the moment I woke up to when I finally fell asleep, my mind would just grind away. I still had the essay I had written and planned on turning it in. I had looked it over once or twice but had not made any changes. My essay spelled out an approach that was fairly traditional but completely ignored the obvious questions. It was pointless to insert these questions as it would underscore the shortcomings of everything else I had written.
On the morning of the Aesthetics' final I woke up with my mind going over the same old ground. I took my essay and left for Cal State with my mind still running full speed as I drove along. I was going east on the San Bernardino Freeway, about a mile from the Cal State off ramp, when something happened.
I had a mental flash of sorts that came and went in less than a second. In that moment I saw a visual image combined with a tremendous amount of information. It was pure insight. It came in an unfamiliar form of knowledge but clearly resolved all that I had been struggling with. In that split second I understood and accepted it. Although I had been totally enthralled with the message, as soon as it ended I realized it couldn't be explained coherently. The mental grinding was replaced with a sense of exhilaration. When I got to class, I wrote a new essay from scratch based on the vision, turned it in and drove home.
Once I got home I wasn't exactly sure what I had written as I was still feeling the after affects from the experience. What I had seen was a sphere of activity that represented civilization. I observed it function as a living organism in response to mankind's various endeavors. All of these endeavors (commerce, art, trade, music, industry, fashion, politics, literature, religion, philosophy, science, etc) are themselves also constantly interacting with one another. It was obvious that art as well as any of these endeavors is absorbed, manipulated, processed and commoditized. This is what put Monet's lilies on umbrellas and Brillo boxes in Art Forum. It's all just more fodder for the beast.
Q. What do all of history's great works of art have in common?
- They are all very expensive.
Q. What makes them great?
- They have been preserved.
Q. Why have they been preserved?
- Because they were commissioned, promoted, sold, bought, collected, protected, hoarded and institutionalized.
Let's look at the Accadema delle Arti del Disegno established in Florence, Italy in 1563 by the Medici family. The Medici family was the wealthiest family in Europe and a political dynasty for over 300 hundred years. They also produced 4 Popes. The Medici and a few other well-to-do families created a climate for art and humanism that gave birth to the Renaissance. The House of Medici set the course for Florentine art and architecture during this time. A great deal of the art that is with us today is due to the Medici families efforts to collect and preserve masterworks from this era. The Academy of art and drawing trained apprentices, formed a guild for working artists, and kept a stable of established masters, such as Michelangelo, to oversee commissioned work throughout Tuscany.
Imagine if you will, the year is 1584 and a young man named Jackson Pollock is applying for an apprenticeship at the Academy of Art and Drawing. He has brought with him some rough sketches as examples of his work. He meets for an interview and evaluation with Giorgio Vasari who has lately been occupied with painting the frescoes for the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence.
Vasari, "Ciao Signore Pollock".
Pollock, "Buon giorno Maestro Vasari".
Vasari, "Scusi, but I only found these messy things. Did you bring any of your work that you can show me?"
Pollock, "Si Maestro. The ones you describe as messy are my work".
Vasari, "Giovane (young man), an apprenticeship at the Accadema should be treated with the respect it deserves. These foul pages spit in the face of the Accadema".
Pollock, "Scusi Maestro Vasari, but if you would give one of the sketches more than a fleeting dismissive glance, you might see what it has to offer".
Vasari, after staring intently at one of Pollock's sketches for a long, silent 10 seconds, "Che schifo! An endless abyss, I recognize nothing. My eyes can find no place to rest; there is no foreground, middle ground or background; it all blends together".
Pollock, "Ecco Maestro, avete capito bene (You got it)".
Vasari, "Basta! Ma, che sei grullo (enough! Are you crazy)? Addio giovane".
If Michelangelo walked today into MOCA, or any of the galleries on 6th street in Los Angeles with his portfolio, no one would give him a second look.
During the renaissance, the Medici family and the Catholic Church determined what would become art. They commissioned it, supervised it and maintained it.
Since the 20th century, museum curators, art dealers, gallery owners, collectors, interior decorators, buyers and investors have determined what would become art. The basis for the determination has been: Will it sell? Will it draw a crowd? Will it appreciate in value? Will it clash with the blue rug in the foyer?
While I waited to see how my essay had gone over with the instructor, I tried to find out what I could about the flash of insight. This all took place before the internet so I had to resort to the library as my resource. There was a surprising amount of material on "insight" or "enlightenment". The books and articles that best captured the experience were about Zen Buddhism and most were written by D. T. Suzuki.
A quick recap of what I came across goes like this:
Koans are given to students of Zen Buddhism. A koan provides dualism in the form of a statement or a question. Students are instructed to contemplate the koan until they reach resolution or insight. The Zen word for this insight in Japan is "satori" which translates as comprehension or understanding. In Chinese the word is "kensho"; in Sanskrit the word is "sambodhi". Students are instructed not to return for additional training until they experience satori. Students initially use reason to search for a conclusion. A student may think they have solved the koan and approach the master anxious to claim success only to be dismissed abruptly for having wasted everyone's time. There may follow several more episodes where a student deludes themselves into thinking they have finally reached an understanding of the koan. It isn't until the student reaches a point where he can't stop his consciousness from continually focusing on the koan, that they will have any chance of reaching satori.
Once the student has this brief enlightening experience, no words are necessary for the master to see what has happened. The student's manner and bearing alone clearly convey the depth and scale of what has been revealed to them.
Zen contends that satori is when one experiences one's true nature by entering the unconscious or subconscious. This produces a sense of beyond, greater than your conscious mind experience, and a form of knowledge that eludes logic and rational explanation once the moment passes.
I found a neurological description of satori but I don't recall the source. This description suggested that satori was a survival response by the Brain. The continual obsessing with the koan builds up a level of stress and anxiety that the brain views as a threat to survival, safety or sanity. The brain acts to relieve this condition by delivering a message or vision that resolves the issue and restores order.
By the time my essay was returned to me I had little hope of receiving a decent grade. I had gone against the grain by attempting to explain in writing an experience that defied explanation. D. T. Suzuki had clearly stated repeatedly that it was a fool's errand. However, this didn't prevent D. T. Suzuki from writing 81 books about the same damn thing.
The Aesthetics instructor had given my essay an A minus. I was relieved and kind of surprised. I sat down and read through it. I didn't remember writing any of it. My honest reaction was that an A minus was very forgiving; in fact, too forgiving. In my opinion, it was definitely C work. It was almost as vague and rambling as D. T. Suzuki.