Académique Documents
Professionnel Documents
Culture Documents
3, July 2002
I
W ittgenstein says at the beginning of his 1938 Lectures on Aesthetics that the
subject (Aesthetics) is very big and entirely misunderstood as far as I can see.1
Entirely misunderstood? What are these misunderstandings and how do they
help to bring out W ittgensteins own peculiar conception of aesthetics? Peter
Lewis identifies three of them,2 which turn out ironically to be more or less
W ittgensteins own aesthetic misunderstandings. The first of these misunderstandings concerns the word beautiful in aesthetics. The word is often used as
an adjective, says W ittgenstein, and it is this linguistic form of sentences that
misleads philosophers into thinking that beauty is an objective quality in things.
Lewis questions, however, whether there are philosophers who really make such
a mistake. The obvious culprit here seems to be Plato, but Lewis reminds us that
Platos view of beauty is an instantiation of a comprehensive theory of
predication rather than a distinctively aesthetic misunderstanding (WAM, p. 20).
1
Ludwig Wittgenstein, Lectures and Conversations on Aesthetics, Psychology and Religious Belief (Berkeley,
California: University of California Press, 1966), p. 1, 1. Hereafter cited as LC, followed by page
number and section number on that page.
Peter Lewis, Wittgensteins Aesthetic Misunderstandings, in K. S. Johannessen (ed.), Wittgenstein
and Aesthetics (Bergen: Universitetet i Bergen, 1997), pp. 1922 [hereafter WAM]. It has to be
pointed out that Lewis restricts his discussion mainly to the first two lectures.
310
THOMAS TAM
311
312
connection with the third one just mentioned. It is, as Lewis puts it, the misunderstanding of the character of aesthetic reactions, specifically . . . the failure to
grasp the implications of the directedness or intentionality of such reactions
(WAM, p. 22). From the point of view of science, aesthetic reactions can be
accounted for by finding out the physical-physiological causes of them. For
W ittgenstein, on the contrary, it is misleading to talk about the cause of aesthetic
reactions. Not that aesthetic reactions do not have causesthey certainly
havebut that aesthetic reactions involve different language games from, say,
that surrounding pain behaviour. An aesthetic reaction is not the expression of a
feeling as such, but a feeling that is directed towards an object in the form of a
criticism (LC, p. 14, 19). In such a language game, it is pertinent to ask about
the reason for the reaction, but not its cause. Why are you disgusted [at the door]?
Because it is too high (LC, p. 14, n. 1). It is, of course, in line with ordinary usage
to say that the door, as the object to which the feeling of disgust is directed, is the
cause of the reaction. But it is misleading to say that one knows the cause of
ones reaction in this context, for one does not take the door as the object which
produces that feeling in us, but as an object of criticism. I think the corollary of this
idea is that we do not equally regard our feeling as an effect produced by a cause,
that is to say, simply as a feeling. And this is the whole idea behind W ittgensteins
criticism of Tolstoys false theorizing about art in Culture and Value.4
According to Lewis, however, W ittgenstein (along with some commentators
too) tends to neglect a very important type of aesthetic reaction, which is that of
being struck by the wonders of nature (WAM, p. 29).5 The reason is that
W ittgenstein was concerned with the judgements using words akin to right
and correct . . ., says Lewis. That concern, I maintain, distracts W ittgensteins
attention from important aspects of the appreciation of art (WAM, p. 30). For the
later W ittgenstein, however, the concept of wonders of nature does emerge as
the basis of art (see CV, p. 64). This idea connotes a sense of fascination, of
admiration and awe, before an artwork. In our appreciation of art, it is essential
that we be impressed by the work, feel enthusiastic about it. People who are
incapable of being thus impressed would be impoverished in their responses to
art. Now, this feeling of wonderment, of being dazzled, is very often conveyed by
means of superlatives, which include adjectives such as beautiful, lovely,
marvellous, and so on. It is not, therefore, as W ittgenstein says in his lectures,
that in real life, when aesthetic judgements are made, aesthetic adjectives . . . play
hardly any role at all (LC, p. 3, 8). Using the aesthetic superlatives, says Lewis,
is a familiar and natural way of expressing aesthetic impact (WAM, p. 35). And
4
Ludwig Wittgenstein, Culture and Value, rev. edn (Oxford: Blackwell, 1998), p. 67e. Hereafter cited
as CV.
Lewis acknowledges that Wittgenstein did mention one example of aesthetic reactions akin to the
reaction of wonder. It is the response to the tremendous things in Art (LC, p. 8, 23).
THOMAS TAM
313
Peter Lewis, Wittgenstein and The Tremendous Things in Art, in K. S. Johannessen and T.
Nordenstam (eds), Wittgenstein and the Philosophy of Culture (Vienna: Hlder-Pichler-Tempsky,
1996), pp. 148161 [hereafter WTTA].
314
human reaction, for it is one of the ways by which human beings respond to
things in the world. Taken in this general sense, the word would also include our
interjections of approval or disapproval with regard to works of art. There is,
however, no evidence that W ittgenstein did understand the word in this way.
Throughout the whole of the first lecture in which he discusses the relevance (or
rather the irrelevance) of interjections to aesthetics, the word does not appear
once. It is introduced only in the second lecture where he examines the philosophical grammar of aesthetic feeling. Indeed, had he construed interjections as
forms of aesthetic reaction, he would not have repeatedly asserted that aesthetic
adjectives, as words of approval or disapproval, play hardly any role in aesthetics,
given the fact that he considers aesthetic reactions as Perhaps the most important
thing in connection with aesthetics (LC, p. 13, 10). In effect, W ittgenstein
seems to think only of aesthetic feeling as aesthetic reaction, but feeling here is
used in a peculiar sense. In ordinary usage, feeling refers to a mental or subjective state, to something which occurs inwardly, though it need not be regarded
as unduly private. The feeling of delight, for example, is feeling in this sense.
But so construed, this feeling is largely independent of its object, external to it,
and pertains only to the subject. Moreover, it is not specific to its object such that
we would have different kinds of delightthe delight of appreciating works of
art, of eating vanilla ice-cream, and so on (cf. LC, p. 12, 4) As mere feelings of
delight, these are all much the same, without significant qualitative differences.
And this is why it makes no sense to talk of an aesthetic feeling as if it were a
special kind of feeling.
What W ittgenstein calls aesthetic feeling must, therefore, be something
entirely different. It is not something that one feels within oneself, but something
like a reaction that is directed at an object. For W ittgenstein, there is not first a
feeling, and then ones reaction based on it. Rather, the feeling is the reaction
itself. W ittgenstein compares the feeling of discomfort as aesthetic reaction to the
drawing of ones hand away from a hot plate (cf. LC, p. 14, 15) The point of the
comparison does not reside so much in showing up the reflex character of both
these reactions. It lies rather, firstly, in the fact that feeling and reaction are
inseparable from one another in reality; and secondly, that the feeling in both
cases is directed at an object, so that the reaction constitutes a form of criticism of
that object. One could in effect consider the drawing of the hand away from the
hot stove as a criticism of the hot stove, much as our running away from the
house someone builds for us, and refusing to live in it, might count as a criticism
of the house (cf. LC, p. 13, 7). Our likes and dislikes, our delight and disgust,
have relevance to aesthetics only when they constitute such implicit criticisms in
themselves, and not simply as feelings. And these criticisms are significant to the
extent that they reflect a form of life.
Given this, there are good reasons to think that the experience of wonder
cannot be construed as an aesthetic reaction in W ittgensteins sense. In turn, this
THOMAS TAM
315
calls into question the importance Lewis attaches to the use of superlatives in
connection with wonder. What is problematic in Lewiss account is that he seems
to deflect the experience of wonder towards its emotive (and consequently, its
expressive) aspect. This is why he considers that interjections, such as Wonderful! or Marvellous!, play a crucial role in aesthetics, for these words are
expressive of an emotional state that is constitutive of a genuine response in the
appreciation of art. Referring to connoisseurs of music who are not impressed by
Pavarottis singing of Nessun Dorma, Lewis says:
But I trust that such a musical person would be prepared to say Wonderful! or
Marvellous! on hearing other singers, or other operas, or other pieces of music. . . .
If this musical person is never prepared to reach for the aesthetic superlatives, then I
have doubts that he is capable of aesthetic appreciation. He would be akin to the
people who were curious about the blossom opening out but who found nothing to
marvel at. (WAM, p. 35)
For sure, if someone is simply curious without being impressed by the blossom,
he is not really responding to it, but is adopting a scientific attitude towards it.
But the point is whether the emotional response which makes one interject
Marvellous! or Beautiful! is really essential to this experience. I would argue
that the concept of wonder, as developed in the 1947 text,7 still holds a relationship to what W ittgenstein earlier, in A Lecture on Ethics, calls the experience of
wondering at the existence of the world or of seeing the world as a miracle;8 and
this relationship should not be underestimated. The 1947 text is more tempered,
in the sense that there is no trace of metaphysical speculation la Schopenhauer,
nor any talk about seeing the world sub specie aeternitatis. But still, wonder is
essentially a way of seeing things, and through seeing, adopting a stance towards
the world, rather than an emotive response. The Look, how its opening out!
(CV, p. 64e) with regard to the blossom should be taken as a pointing to or a
showing of something, rather than a mere expressive gesture. The showing is, in
effect, essential to the concept of wonder, for what one wonders at, namely the
miracle, is beyond language and can only be shown, but not said. To the question
What is marvellous about the blossom opening?, W ittgenstein gives, by way of an
answer, not a description but an exhortationLook, how its opening out!
The German word Wunder means wonder and miracle, and these two ideas
are intimately connected in W ittgensteins thought. There is something miraculous in the blooming of a blossom, just as there is something miraculous in the
formation of a crystal, which is in strict accordance with mathematical formulae
(cf. CV, pp. 65e and 47e). Both these phenomena are miraculous to the extent
7
The text reads: The miracles of nature. We might say: art discloses the miracles of nature to us. It is
based on the concept of the miracles of nature. (The blossom, just opening out. What is marvellous
about it?) We say: Look, how its opening out! (CV, p. 64e).
Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Occasions 19121951 (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1993), p. 43.
316
that one does not attempt to explain them; and the miracle consists in their very
inexplicability. Yet another instance9 in Culture and Value where the word Wunder
is used with the meaning miracle is the entry dated 8.9.1946. The remark reads:
The purely corporeal can be uncanny. Compare the way angels & devils are portrayed.
A so-called miracle [Wunder] must be connected with this. It must be as it were a
sacred gesture. (CV, p. 57e)
The miracle this time is connected with art. What is miraculous is the way angels
and devils are portrayed. More precisely, the miraculous lies in the uncanniness
of the representation of the devil, which is purely corporeal, in contradistinction
to that of the angel, which is spiritual. That the uncanniness of the devil comes
through the representation of the purely corporeal is almost like a miracle. It is
not explicable in human terms, but must be regarded as a gesture of God.
If the later W ittgenstein says that art is based on the concept of the wonders/
miracles of nature, it is not to make the experience of wonder a foundational
experience underlying all other aesthetic experiences. W ittgensteins thinking
seems opposed to such architecturing of thought into a system. If art is something
of a miracle, it is because art is essentially inexplicable and every experience of art
must sooner or later encounter the inexplicability of the that-it-is of the world. If
a man started to see the miracle as a problem and tried to explain it, then his
admiration will have suffered a rupture (CV, p. 65e). He will no longer be seeing
the thatness of things. In a sense, the idea of inexplicability replaces the nonsensicality of the paradox of absolute experience which W ittgenstein considers as
the essence of art in A Lecture on Ethics. Art is not so much a non-sense as a
sense which turns out to be an enigma.
III
What place does the tremendous have in W ittgensteins aesthetics? What
importance could we assign to this idea? The word is scarcely mentioned in his
Lectures on Aesthetics, or indeed in the entire corpus of his work. And what he
says about the tremendous in those lectures looks like a singular and spontaneous
remark which informs us more about his view of appreciation than about any
views he may have had about the tremendous itself. The well-known passage in
which the word appears is 23 of the first of his Lectures on Aesthetics. The
passage reads:
We talked of correctness. A good cutter wont use any words like Too long, All right.
When we talk of a Symphony of Beethoven we dont talk of correctness. Entirely
different things enter. One wouldnt talk of appreciating the tremendous things in Art.
In certain styles in Architecture a door is correct, and the thing is you appreciate it.
9
The only other one, if we discount its use in such expressions as kein Wunder.
THOMAS TAM
317
But in the case of a Gothic Cathedral what we do is not at all to find it correctit
plays an entirely different role with us. The entire game is different. It is as different
as to judge a human being and on the one hand to say He behaves well and on the
other hand He made a great impression on me. (LC, pp. 78)
B. R. Tilghman, Wittgenstein, Ethics and Aesthetics: The View from Eternity (London: Macmillan, 1991),
pp. 8690 [hereafter WEA].
318
Lewis, however, queries both of these points. He points out, firstly, that a
tremendous work of art can also be rule-governed. He writes:
It is commonplace to say of a great work that it is great in spite of flouting or failing
to conform to the established rules. This is how Samuel Johnson defended
Shakespeares plays when they were criticized for breaking the classical rules
governing the unities of time and place in drama. But if we do talk of a tremendous
work as being incorrect in some respects, then surely it must make sense sometimes
to say that in some respects it is correct. (WTTA, p. 151)
What Lewis calls the tremendous is therefore not a question of more or less deep
appreciation, but that of a quite different kind of response. The tremendous is
something that wrings from us a reaction, something which forces our admiration in spite of ourselves, something which calls forth within us a total response.
And this is why using superlatives is the most direct and natural way to express
our reaction to its impact. Lewis compares, in effect, the tremendous to the
THOMAS TAM
319
Kantian sublime in that it is something that seems to shatter us and set our mind
in motion (WTTA, p. 156). It differs from appreciation in much the same way as
the feeling of the sublime, involving fearfulness and thus pain, differs from the
pleasurable calm contemplation of the beautiful.
Both Tilghman and Lewis think it appropriate to contrast the response to the
tremendous with appreciation. I would argue that, in setting up this contrast,
there is a danger of missing the point that W ittgenstein is making in those
lectures about appreciation. No doubt, the contrast seems justified if one
construes LC 23 in isolation. Yet, this text appears in the course of a discussion
on appreciation, and W ittgenstein is there drawing attention to the vast variety of
cases that appreciation encompasses. The tremendousness of a Beethoven
symphony or a Gothic cathedral enters the picture because they help to widen the
range of possibilities of aesthetic appreciation. W ittgensteins point is to argue
against the eighteenth-century philosophical concept of appreciation, which
concerns itself exclusively with the beauty or formal qualities of an object. And
there are important reasons for this. First of all, the concept of appreciation, for
W ittgenstein, is not something determinable purely philosophically. He says:
It is not only difficult to describe what appreciation consists in, but impossible. To
describe what it consists in we would have to describe the whole environment. (LC,
p. 7, 20)
320
through appreciation and forms part of it. In effect, one cannot truly appreciate a
work of art without assuming the form of life embodied in the culture of that work.
As W ittgenstein puts it:
I think that, in order to enjoy a poet, you have to like the culture to which he belongs
as well. If you are indifferent to this or repelled by it, your admiration cools off. (CV,
p. 96e)
In Tilghmans view, therefore, treating space for spaces sake (WEA, p. 167), as
he thinks Frank Stella and other modernist painters do, will not have any human
significance in it. Indeed, one can see that there is a great concern for the human
in W ittgensteins numerous remarks on art, yet those remarks seem more often
to dig out less the psychological depth of an artist than the personality hidden in
every great work of art that is expressive of a form of life. Thus, W ittgenstein writes of
Mendelssohn:
Within all great art there is a WILD animal: tamed.
Not, e.g., in Mendelssohn. All great art has primitive human drives as its ground
bass. They are not the melody (as they are, perhaps, in Wagner), but they are what gives
the melody depth & power.
In this sense one may call Mendelssohn a reproductive artist. (CV, p. 43e)
THOMAS TAM
321
Other than the fact that the word beautiful is not used unequivocally,11 and other
than the fact that an object requires the complementation of the setting in which it
originally existed to enhance its beauty,12 there is also a deep understanding of the
meaning of the beauty of an object. The beauty of Mozarts music is not merely the
pleasing or the enjoyable taken as an end in itself. Rather, it is understood as a form of
life (or a language) in which the distorted or the frightful does not make its
appearance. One can say with Wittgenstein that beauty is not to be circumscribed by
the aesthetic, and the aesthetic cannot constitute itself as a realm.
If the art/aesthetic distinction cannot be sustained, there is no way of seeking
the tremendous solely on the side of art, that is, in the human narrowly
conceived. Is it more plausible to think of the tremendous as something that
greatly impresses us and provokes a reaction in us, such that the response to it
stands opposed to appreciation, as Lewis suggests? W ittgenstein does not seem to
have made this contrast in his lectures. In fact, he includes among the cases of
appreciation one in which a person responds to a work of art because it makes a
profound impression on him (LC, p. 9, 30). It is thus inapt to restrict W ittgensteins idea of appreciation to the judging of correctness. As we have seen earlier,
Lewis distinction between appreciation and the response to the tremendous aims
at highlighting the part played by emotions in the response to art. For him, the
emotional response constitutes a more fundamental element than the critical or
evaluative attitude in art appreciation. Indeed, Lewis is right to point out that art
critics and connoisseurs (and not least, W ittgenstein himself) often do use
aesthetic superlatives to express their reactions to art. Yet, for W ittgenstein,
notwithstanding his practice in real life, there is abundant evidence in Lectures
on Aesthetics that he dismisses pure (as it were, unreflective) emotive responses
11
Cf. CV, pp. 27e28e. Wittgenstein says: I shall not even want to compare the beauty of expression
in a pair of eyes with the beauty in the shape of a nose.
12
322
Learning the rules provides a basic understanding of the arts, and it is this
understanding that W ittgenstein considers as more fundamental than any kind of
spontaneous emotional response. Naturally, it does not mean that emotional
affect, as we find in Lewiss argument, has no part to play in aesthetics, but that it
should not be constituted as a totally different realm of response that stands in
opposition to, far less is elevated above, appreciation. Nor should it serve to
characterize the specific kind of response proper to the tremendous things in art.
Coming back to the idea of the tremendous, I would like to suggest, by way of
speculation, that the tremendous too has to be seen against some kind of rules. It
could very well be that a tremendous thing is tremendous just because it breaks
the rules, but understanding the rules, as in all cases of appreciation, is a
prerequisite for any real response to the tremendous. I would like to conclude by
giving an example of a case of appreciation of the tremendous in art. It is in the
notes that accompany Rosalyn Turecks recent re-recording of Bachs Goldberg
Variations. In talking about Variation 15, Tureck writes :
The principle of inversion that Bach maintains throughout the entire composition is
nowhere placed in a more sublime setting than in the last measure of this Variation.
With the bars descending, the soprano ascends and becomes inactive at the dominant
note. The ending on the single note, ascending to the dominant, seems to continue
beyond sound, conveying an image of moving into a region of intangibility where
there is no sense of end. This is one of the most magical moments in this great
composition.13
Thomas Tam, Department of Philosophy, Lingnan University, Tuen Mun, Hong Kong.
13
Copyright of British Journal of Aesthetics is the property of British Society of Easthetics and its content may
not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written
permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.