This edition of the Recently Published Book Spotlight is about Stephanie Ross’s Two Thumbs Up: How Critics Aid Appreciation. Stephanie Ross is Professor Emerita of Philosophy at the University of Missouri – St. Louis. She is the author of What Gardens Mean (University of Chicago Press, 1989) as well as chapters and papers on a range of topics including caricature, allusion, artistic style, critical disagreement, landscape appreciation, and more.
What is your work about?
My work explores the nature of aesthetic appreciation and the possibility that there are experts in the realm of taste. I begin by considering gustatory taste. Key questions are whether such taste is educable and whether a shared standard can be put in place. Carolyn Korsmeyer is my guide here; I draw on her groundbreaking book Making Sense of Taste to shape my discussion.
Next I turn to a more generalized application of taste as it applies to art, but also to everyday items and natural landscapes. I follow Frank Sibley in arguing for the centrality of aesthetic qualities when disputes arise in this realm. The ascription of aesthetic qualities to works of art is often contestable. Borrowing from Sibley, I track a specific disagreement – “It’s delicate,” “No it’s insipid!” – to assess the issues in play.
The main thrust of my book examines and reworks the theory proposed by David Hume in his 1757 essay “Of the Standard of Taste.” While I try to make Hume my own – for example, I dispense with the sentiment-based machinery that grounds his account of appreciation – I endorse the broad outlines of his approach. Thus I accept the idea that laying out the key qualities of ideal critics is the best route to sorting good from bad art. However my overall interest lies less with supporting evaluative verdicts than with analyzing the acts of understanding, interpretation, and emotional and imaginative response that undergird those summary judgments.
After setting out a neo-Humean account of criticism, I assess the likelihood of irresolvable disagreement, address the practical problem of identifying the ideal critics among us, and consider the conditions under which taste can evolve and mature. I close by discussing some applications of the view I defend. I take up in turn nature appreciation, the appreciation of the arts of literature, film, and architecture, the bearing of identity politics on art criticism, and, finally, the problems raised by bad art and mean critics.
I hope that my study of these matters results in an account of critical practice that explains its usefulness and viability today.
Why did you feel the need to write this work?
In thirty some years of teaching Philosophy of Art, I found myself repeatedly puzzling over two challenging essays, Sibley’s “Aesthetic Concepts” and Hume’s “Essay of the Standard of Taste.” My project evolved from these encounters.
Neither essay is entirely transparent to present-day students. Sibley’s piece is difficult because he never presents an explicit definition of aesthetic properties, and his arguments to establish that they are not conditioned-governed – that no set of non-aesthetic properties provides sufficient condition for the ascription of a given aesthetic property — are dry and demanding. Hume’s Essay is challenging for different reasons. I have always thought it demonstrates the amount of time 18th-c readers had to devote to meandering, difficult, and at times convoluted pieces of writing.
The closest Sibley comes to a definition of aesthetic properties is this famous list: “unified, balanced, integrated, lifeless, serene, somber, dynamic, powerful, vivid, delicate, moving, trite, sentimental, tragic.” I canvas the taxonomies two present-day aestheticians, Alan Goldman and Noel Carroll, propose for this area and examine some competing accounts that that are clear outliers. In the end, I believe that the aesthetic properties of any work of art supervene on an array of perceptual, structural, and historical properties and that those aesthetic properties play a central role in the justification of interpretive and evaluative claims about the work.
Hume opens his Essay by acknowledging the great variety of taste and opinion that prevails in the world. He goes on to declare this variation “still greater in reality than in appearance.” Thus he puzzlingly begins by seeming to endorse a view — de gustibus non est disputandum – that he ultimately goes on to oppose. Readers may continue to feel at sea as Hume takes up a number of subsidiary issues – how disagreement differs in different domains (the moral, the scientific, the speculative), the proper circumstances for encountering works of art, the nature of beauty.
Hume returns to his central topic, the objectivity of taste claims, when he proposes that some assertions about the arts command near universal agreement. For instance: that John Milton, the author of Paradise Lost, displays greater genius and elegance than John Ogilby, the translator of Aesop. Contravening them would, Hume suggests, be akin to equating a mountain to a molehill, or an ocean to a mere pond. Hume believes such assertions command sufficient agreement to attain objectivity in this realm. To set out the sought-after standard of taste, Hume would have us identify ideal critics whose verdicts track value in art. Channeling their judgments will guide the rest of us to rewarding aesthetic experiences.
The readings I propose of Sibley’s and Hume’s essays ground my account of the nature of aesthetic appreciation and the workings of critical advice. My book aspires to present a neo-Humean theory of these activities, one that plausibly explains our interactions with art.
Which of your insights or conclusions do you find most exciting?
An eye-opener for me was the realization that Hume has offered up his own version of the Copernican Revolution attributed to Kant. Rather than pursue doomed and counter-productive attempts to define beauty – doomed because we can never arrive at a plausible consensus, but also counterproductive in this context because not all works of art aspire to be beautiful – Hume instead reorients our attention to those who evaluate works of art. His characterization of ideal critics or true judges helps us understand how to properly approach works of art.
In framing my project, I became newly aware of how often we rely others’ opinions and expertise in this realm. Film and restaurant reviews are perhaps the most frequently consulted. I build my introduction around discussion of movie critics Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, whose long-running and highly-popular TV show At the Movies went through multiple iterations. But there are many other contexts where critical help is on offer: pre-concert lecture demonstrations, post-performance discussions in the theater, contextualizing remarks from poets and singer-songwriters, online assessments on Amazon, Rotten Tomatoes, and more. We use such aid in various ways, sometimes beforehand as we decide how to allot the time we have for the arts, sometimes after the fact to help us circle back and understand works that puzzled or challenged us.
If taste is malleable, two additional questions become pressing. Just what works can we come to like? And how should we decide which critics to follow in forming new preferences? I draw on work by Anna Ribeiro and Jerrold Levinson in attempting some answers. In her paper “Aesthetic Luck,” Ribeiro traces the default preferences many of us display to circumstance – our backlog of aesthetic encounters – and constitution –the capacities we bring to bear in experiencing works of art. Both factors also influence the trajectory along which our preferences can change. And in a pair of JAAC papers setting out and defending Hume’s view, Levinson argues that following the advice of Humean critics guarantees we acquire valuable aesthetic experience. Levinson analogizes such critics to litmus paper, barometers, and truffle pigs, each trope suggesting that these individuals are specially positioned (calibrated!) to track value in art.
In exploring these issues I propose another analogy, one comparing artworks to friends. Often new friends who enter our circle are connected to current friends, but we can also court new acquaintances on our own. While some new friends delight us immediately, others grow on us slowly as we come to appreciate special traits and common interests. Sometimes we realize we have outgrown certain friends, and occasionally we form infatuations that we later come to regret. I believe each of these circumstances finds parallels in our relations to works of art.
Acknowledging that our taste for art evolves and matures suggests there is a place for guidance and expertise. I support the approach of Alan Goldman, whose book Aesthetic Value is an extended brief for the proposal that we should all seek out and follow the advice of critics whose taste we share.
Does your work suggest any advice that artists or critics could use for making sure the public encounters art in a way that encourages reflection on ourselves or society?
I insist repeatedly in my book that not all art aspires to be beautiful. Works of art perform many varied functions. They might display beautiful or arresting form, but they might also express or arouse emotion, represent and comment on the actual world, create alternate worlds for us to imaginatively enter, present moral lessons for us to learn, and more. Works attempting any of these tasks invite reflection that critical gloss can guide and encourage. Comic or frivolous works can prompt musings on the nature of the funny, while abstract or formalist pieces can trigger thoughts of Platonic patterns. But critical input can be especially helpful with art that seeks to inform us about the human condition. Not because critics are experts in living, but because they can help us figure out the intricacies of challenging works. They do so by providing background information about the work, the artist, the generating artworld, the shaping influences, the influence, if any, the work went on to wield, all this supporting crucial interpretive and evaluative claims. I close my chapter on aesthetic qualities with a discussion of Anselm Kiefer’s painting “Burning Rods”. This case study underscores the benefits critical comment can provide.
“Burning Rods” is a challenging work. A massive (10’ x 18’), somber canvas, its predominantly dark-hued surface encrusted with lead, copper, and straw, the piece reads as a blighted landscape vista. Fourteen vertical strokes inhabit the middle of the painting. Accompanying signage informs viewers that these refer to the ancient Egyptian myth of Isis and Osiris. Murdered by his brother Set, Osiris’ body was torn into 14 pieces that were later reassembled by his wife Isis. She then impregnated herself to give birth to a son who killed Set and succeeded his father as king. Thus this bleak painting has at its core a myth of redemption and regeneration. The painting simultaneously refers to the nuclear disaster at Chernobyl that occurred a year before its completion; its alternate title is “Fuel Rods.”
Note that few if any viewers would make these connections without exegetical help. As indicated above, the painting contains no figurative elements. And the number fourteen is hardly code for the Isis/Osiris myth in present-day Western culture. Since emotions come valenced – that is, we can sort them into positive and negative categories – viewers can easily ascribe an appropriate feeling tone to “Burning Rods.” But they surely require prompting to access the additional esoteric references that unlock the painting’s content. Only with this knowledge in hand can they appreciate the summary comment posted on the museum’s website: “The monumental size and imposing physical bulk of this work are matched by Kiefer’s ambition to address the profound issues of death, destruction, and renewal that continually confront humanity.” I take this example to reinforce one of the overall points of my reworking of Hume’s theory – that critics play an essential role in aiding our appreciation of art.
How is your work relevant to everyday life?
To illustrate his claims, Hume draws examples primarily from literature, considered the worthiest art of his time. Yet many of Hume’s insights hold across the arts and still speak to us today. Consider the mechanistic metaphor Hume invokes to indicate the proper state of mind for encountering works of art “The finer emotions of the mind are of a very tender and delicate nature … The least exterior hindrance to such small springs, or the least internal disorder, disturbs their motion, and confounds the operation of the whole machine.” We can all fill in examples of exterior hindrances and internal disorders that would thwart appreciation. Background noise at a concert, poor lighting in a gallery, obstructed sight-lines in a theatre all count as exterior obstacles while nausea, an incipient migraine, or a recent lover’s quarrel are instead challenges that arise from within. Important practical precepts emerge from this discussion. Hume maintains that in assessing art, we must choose a time and place that allows us to rein in our fancy, attain serenity of mind, recollect relevant thoughts, and pay due attention to the object. These recommendations hold good even now and apply to appreciators at all levels, both ideal critics and the amateurs they advise.
In addition to setting out the proper circumstances for encountering art, Hume also specifies the identifying traits of ideal critics. After insisting that such critics possess delicacy of taste – in effect acuity of perception – he turns to two factors I find especially telling, practice and comparison. By practice Hume means the experience of returning repeatedly to a given work to further plumb its depths. Comparison instead has appreciators summon up other works – different creations by the same artist, similar creations by other artists – to help pinpoint the salient traits of the work under consideration. Taken together, Humean practice and comparison provide the wherewithal to contextualize works. Note that this is just what is done in survey courses aspiring to introduce students to, say, Western classical music, Romantic poetry, Italian Baroque architecture, and more.
It takes time to accumulate the relevant backlog of experience that these paired requirements demand. This also makes it likely that critics must specialize to some degree – there is only so much time available for acquiring the experience needed to properly situate a given work, artist, genre, school, or movement. Thus the appropriateness of deeming Humean critics experts in their chosen area.
One remaining practical challenge that flows from Hume’s theory is finding the ideal critics among us, and more important, deciding which of them to follow. We are generally surrounded by constant critical clamor. The task is to sort out poseurs and also discount individuals not suited to critique the works they take on. Reflecting back on Hume’s exposition, I propose a checklist of sorts to allow us to assess the background and effectiveness of candidate critics.
What’s next for you?
I would like to think about the art of conversation. While I am invariably scintillating in imagined exchanges, I am not always an adept conversant in real life. I think many of us have had the experience of feeling trapped in a one-sided or unrewarding conversation. There is also the familiar regret of realizing after the fact what one should have said in a given exchange. Since being a good conversant strikes me as a virtue, I would like to work up a theory of this domain.
Certainly conversation provides a variety of goods – information, comfort, amusement, a sense of like-mindedness and inclusion. It can also be used to establish status and mark difference. Conversations are differently inflected depending on how participants are separated by age, race, gender, class, and more. In addition, a one-on-one conversation proceeds differently than one with multiple participants. Whatever the numbers, successful exchanges must accommodate people’s varying conversational styles. Some speakers habitually hold forth, commandeering verbal space, while others are counter-punchers who wait to react to what has been said.
I would like to sketch an ethics of conversation that acknowledges these varied parameters. Some modes of conversation are unwelcome. For example, it is unpleasant to be talked at. This broadcasts insensitivity and flags power imbalances. We disparage those who ‘like to hear themselves talk,’ and those at the receiving end of a harangue may well feel oppressed. But conversations can also be one-sided due to the neediness or distress of one participant. A good conversant can be a care-taker here, drawing out, supporting, and encouraging another. Empathy seems required to perform these functions well. If so, certain character traits or virtues are required of effective conversants. Epistemic prerequisites apply as well. Conversants not minimally informed about the topics they take up risk betraying their ignorance, or worse, coming across as blowhards. I believe there should be an aesthetics as well as an ethics of conversation. Here we should consider the various ways responses relate in conversational give and take. Decorative flourishes, surprising tropes, imaginative leaps, changes of tone all contribute to the feel and texture of an exchange. A complete theory of conversation should determine when and how these add value to a given conversation.
There is clearly some literature to consult in getting started. Linguist Deborah Tannen examines barriers to communication in a number of best-selling books, and historian Leo Damrosch’s acclaimed volume The Club provides a historical dimension, detailing an 18th century club in London devoted to conversation. Members included such luminaries as Samuel Johnson, James Boswell, Joshua Reynolds, Adam Smith, Edmund Burke, Edward Gibbons, David Garrick … Women were not allowed to take part, but Damrosch includes profiles of many of Johnston’s talented female friends and acquaintances.
There are also many philosophical sources to plumb. Both disagreement and persuasion are activities that engage philosophers, and some ascend and make these objects of analysis and study. Still it would be a mistake to hold up philosophical exchange as the model for all conversation. Although philosophizing can be cooperative – this might be the essence of Socratic dialogue – the activity can also be aggressive. There was a time when feminists objected to philosophy’s androcentric and hostile style. H.P. Grice’s famed theory of conversational implicature indicates the gulf between what is said and what is conveyed, while the burgeoning literature on micro-aggression and its positively valenced counterpart indicates the harms and benefits conversation can bring about. I would like to focus more generally on how conversation is constructed, how it flourishes, and how it best serves its varied ends. I look forward to exploring the available resources and would welcome suggestions from readers of this Blog.
Works Mentioned:
- Noel Carroll, Philosophy of Art, A Contemporary Introduction, Routledge, 1999.
- Alan Goldman, Aesthetic Value, Westview, 1995.
- David Hume, “Of the Standard of Taste” in Essays Moral, Political, and Literary, Liberty Classics, 1987, 226-249.
- Carolyn Korsmeyer, Making Sense of Taste, Cornell, 1999.
- Jerrold Levinson, “Artistic Worth and Personal Taste,” Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 68:3 (2010), 225-233.
- Jerrold Levinson, “Hume’s Standard of Taste: The Real Problem,” Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 60:3 (2002) 227-238.
- Anna Ribeiro, “Moral Luck,” The Monist 101:1 (2018) 99-113.
- Frank Sibley, “Aesthetic Concepts,” in Approach to Aesthetics: Collected Papers on Philosophical Aesthetics, Oxford, 2001, 1-23.
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Stephanie Ross
Stephanie Ross is Professor Emerita of Philosophy at the University of Missouri – St. Louis. She is the author of What Gardens Mean (University of Chicago Press, 1989) as well as chapters and papers on a range of topics including caricature, allusion, artistic style, critical disagreement, landscape appreciation, and more.
