Saturday, 28 December 2013

Visual Culture by Howells and Negreiros Chapter 5: Semiotics



Semiotics originated with the Swiss linguist de Saussure, who devised the 'lexicon of signification', a group of terms comprising the 'signifier' (that which stands for something else), the 'signified' (the idea it stands for) and the 'sign' (the union of the two).

The key is that nothing naturally means anything and therefore meaning must be cultural. There is nothing God given that DOG means a four footed domestic animal, for example. Sign is arbitrary, else there would be only one language.

(A good example would be secret code - the sign is to be secret in order that only certain people can know what the signifier stands for).

Car names provide examples of names that signify different things in different cultures. No Va means "doesn't go" in Spanish. Mitsubishi brought out the Pajero in 1980s - means wanker in Spain, where care is sold ad Montero.

In visual world , can see that tie is a classic signifier, suggests we are serious and professional, creates an impression that we treat the occasion with respect.

signs are arbitrary - witness that there is just one stroke difference from Mercedes Benz badge to CND logo.

Signs can change too. Eiffel Tower nowadays is quintessentially Paris, but it was an eyesore in early days.

Barthes extended Saussure's work from words to visual and popular culture, and to a study of 'myths'. i.e the concept of a chain of signifier, signified etc. E.g DOG is signifier, domestic animal is signifier, but dogs signify fideility. So myth is 'sum of signs'.  it is something standing for something else, the intention is more important than the form (he uses the example of a black soldier saluting the French flag on the cover of Paris Match). Of course Renaissance painters included many symbols in their work.

Importance here is that journalist or other maker of myths frequently finds a form to fit a pre existing concept - e.g. finding starving people on a mission in a famine area. Photographers find images to fit idea of 'quaint village'.

Barthes' 'impoverished signifier' also makes sense - a scantily clad girl is designed to suggest sex appeal and in doing so loses her individuality. (Sport is interesting in this respect. too - consider role of team colours, why Leeds chose white).

Barthes is mainly concerned to show how myth represents the interests of the bourgeois, it misrepresents history as nature (i.e this is how things are naturally, rather then resulting from historical forces). Similar to Berger's ideas. Myth to Barthes is all about 'it goes without saying'. whereas actually nothing goes without saying.

Barthes discusses wrestling, an activity where things are not what they seem. The passion is false but the concepts of goodie against baddie are not.

Barthes is infatuated with idea that bourgeois values (extended to middle class values of smug, reactionary unthinkingness).

Problem with Barthes is that he is selective in his approach - some brilliant insights rather than sustained analysis - and he sees exactly what he wants to see (like Berger).

Semiotics can be seen a lot in advertising. Howells and Negreiros use the example of Renault 19 ad campaign with the priest, I come up with Orange ads, very well known because a phone never appeared in the ads, the whole idea being implication, the apotheosis of this being the series of amusing cinema ads where the company executives wish to make the phone very obvious in an advertising story line but the authors of the subtle ideas are aghast at the crudity of the suggestions.















Visual Culture by Howells and Negreiros Chapter 4: Ideology



The chapter is primarily about the work of John Berger: Ways of Seeing, a 1972 polemic that set out to change way that art was looked at.

Berger points out that 'seeing comes before words.' It establishes our own place in the world. 'Images are more precise and richer than literature.' However, Berger believes that our ability to see art has been compromised by assumptions about art, assumptions that deliberately mystify in order that a privileged minority is trying to invent a history that retrospectively justifies the role of the ruling classes. Experts have explained away the political evidence of the paintings, neglecting a 'total' approach that would relate the paintings to people's everyday lives.

This all seems rather far fetched to me. Berger is undoubtedly on to something in his comments that doubt the integrity of visual cultural analysis but one has to ask why the commentators would intentionally or unintentionally seek retrospectively to protect  the ruling classes? It seems much more likely that much of the pretentiousness, indeed much of the infrastructure of the art history industry, seeks to enhance and protect its own image, in simple terms it is an exercise in self importance.

Moreover, one has to question whether the average person in the street is actually that concerned that experts do not explain art in a total way. Is this something he or she needs?

Berger continues by pointing out that most people associate museums with churches (not sure this would be true in 2013). He would prefer pinboards in rooms where images of pictures would be stuck.

Oil painting has a special relationship with property says Berger - not merely because they are property but also because they show property. Thus paintings become propaganda.

Again, this seems a huge leap. We have already discussed the fact that paintings were often commissions by obviously wealthy people (one needs only to visit most stately homes to see an array of the great and the good of the family through the ages to confirm this) so it is hardly surprising that paintings show property. One can infer that having a portrait of ones self and family was a status symbol. Berger is here stating the obvious.

H&N continue with Berger's critique of the Ambassadors  by Holbein. Berger admits there is great technical skill in the painting but claims the 'stuff' that 'demonstrates the desirability of what money could buy' that dominates the painting, highlighting scientific instruments and a globe, for example.

H&N point out that there is an alternative explanation (I might add that one is hardly required if my argument above is accepted: that this is an example of painting procured by the wealthy and influential to show themselves off. It does not need a class based approach to see this). The disclosing of a particular time on a clock, the broken string of a lute may point to the transience of the scene; that all the wordly goods might disappear as easily as they materialise. There is a skull as well: a recurring motif meaning memento mori, remember you have to die.           Thus it could equally be said that Holbein has added a sense of folly.

There is further dichotomy over Berger's interpretation of Frans Hals' Old Men's Alms House. Hals was penniless and earned three loads of peat for painting group portraits. Some (notably Slive) praise the works and say there is no evidence that the paintings were done by Hals in a negative way . Berger disagrees, saying that Hals would obviously have been bitter about his relative position and economic disadvantage.

The problem with this argument is that it replaces what Berger would claim is a reactionary acceptance by the art world of a situation where the haves are taking advantage of the have nots with an arrogant assumption that this MUST be the case. How does Berger know? He might be right but then he might not. Hals might have been very happy at the prospect of practising his craft. He might have been grateful.

The chapter then continues with the developing argument between Fuller and Berger over the last two decades of twentieth century. Fuller originally countenanced Berger's theory but gradually distanced himself, ultimately becoming quite hostile to Berger.

H&N analyze the differences between Berger and Fuller, and conclude much as I have done above, that there are several plausible motives that Hals might have had when painting the portraits.

Marxian theories are outdated now, but we should credit Berger with at least advocation a new 'way of seeing' that remains relevant, and perhaps rightly shook the cosy world of art commentary.

H&N then move on to look at gender, specifically noting how the vast majority of nude painting is by men of women, not dissimilar, one might add, of contemporary pornography. Indeed some painting is very much of the top shelf variety. H&N further discuss an essay by Laura Mulvey in which she argues that women are very much portrayed as objects of male fantasies in the cinema.

Again, one has to say that this is all pretty obvious. Men were trained to be painters in patriarchal European society so it is hardly surprising there are no female painters, and perhaps equally unsurprising that female sex organs are more commonly portrayed than male, though this is surely not true of Greek sculpture, which seemed to major on the male organ. Perhaps the polemical approach to sexism in art is unjustified; it simply reflected the Zeitgeist of the period.

The remainder of the chapter discusses the work of Bordieu; I profess not to understand this so decline to add to notes.

                                   
















Visual Culture by Howells and Negreiros Chapter 3: Art History



Chapter looks at the traditional approach to Art History exemplified by Ernst Gombrich's The Story of Art.

Gombrich aimed to demystify the subject, to "bring intelligible order" to help the new reader of Art. He tells the story through the eyes of the artists: "There really is no such thing as Art. There are only artists". In doing so he resorts almost to idolatry to the great artists: '[they have] given their all in these works, they have suffered for them, sweated blood over them, and the least they have a right to ask of us is that we try to understand what they wanted to do'.

At this point, one can almost predict Howells' and Negreiros' challenging, slightly cynical view of this and similar treatises. They further point out that Gombrich deliberately sets his book out as a story, an unfolding panoply of the history of art.

The chapter then summarises Gombrich's book quick time, a pursuit the authors admit is an 'outrage' in its brevity (so how much more of an outrage is my summary below?)

Briefly the story goes:

        prehistoric, Egyptian, Greek, Roman;
        Christianity and the need to decorate the new places of worship - Romaneque perid;
        Gothic, and the consequent elevation of Italian artists, notably Giotto, one of the first "great artists";
        Renaissance - the period of the 'conquest of reality' and the development of oil painting (accredited by Gombrich to van Eyck);
        17th/18th century development of more personal art (landscapes of Blake, for example);
        During ninetheenth century, Gombrich sees artists viewing themselves as 'a race apart', with the consequences of more individuality and opening new possibilities for art;
        This evolved into Impressionist movement - Manet and Monet and the post Impressionists led by Cezanne;
        First half of twentieth century is 'experimental', away from traditional art to Cubism, and the work of Picasso;

Now we get to the point of H&N's chapter as they make following points:
1.   The history of art is narrative and imposes order. Why? They point to our psychological need to create an illusion of order. I would argue that they miss a trick here, especially in light of their analysis later in the chapter, namely that the need is not psychological but a function of the Westernised model of pseudo science that actively seeks explanation by classification and analysis. Inevitably this is arbitrary and to a large degree a function of the author, who is himself part of the culture that justifies and rewards the proponents of the pseudo science;
2.   Gombrich makes his heroes (plenty of examples in the text, p68). H&N state this is because Gombrich wishes to colour his narrative and that he places the artist over the art.

H&N are concerned with the classical histories of art typified by Gombrich for a number of reasons:

1.    The cult of artist over art in traditional histories  eclipses the arguably more important impact of sociological factors. This is accentuated by the obsession of art historians with attribution, such that, for example, Man Wearing a Gilt Helmet has been disattributed as a Rembrandt painting altogether, thus rendering it almost worthless in terms both of art history and value. Yet, as the authours muse, nothing in the painting has changed, it is merely our perception that only Rembrandt can paint a Rembrandt.

2.Gender too plays its part. There are literally no famous female artists, a fact taken for granted by Gombrich, but why? H&N more or less answer this themselves: that the Zeitgeist of the 1950s (when Gombrich first wrote) was not to question male supremacy in the same way as later generations would.

3.There are twin related problems for the classical history of art text: they are Eurocentric - written by Europeans largely for Europeans - and therefore offer primacy to European art over say Chinese or Islamic art (although I would add in the latter case this is at least partly explained by the primacy of word over image in Islamic faith) and other forms of art: sculpture, architecture and, latterly new media.

4. That we should even try to understand what artists are trying to do. Is it not possible that their motives were not as simple as paying the bills by doing what  they were (very) good at?
5. That history of art is tied up with the commercial art market; the emphasis on context and attribution leads to concentration on works and artists (note the disattribution of Man Wearing a Gilt Helmet)

H&N then perform something of a volte face during an extended analysis of Guernica, Picasso's mural depicting the bombing of the town by the Luftwaffe in 1937. They conclude, quite simply, that Guernica IS an example of art as a statement, i.e. more than financial or aesthetic value.

Their point does, I think, have resonance for photography as it is just such works as Iwo Jima and the naked Vietnamese girl that bring the horror of war directly to the living room. If Guernica is art, then do not these images equally qualify?

In the Key Debate section, H&N turn to the work of Kesner, a Czech art specialist who is a very critical of the art history community, claiming 'a near ignorance of world art' is 'a badge of their professional status'.
         
        But, interestingly, Kesner is a supporter of Western ideas in the history of art. He claims that only Western working concepts: it was on account of these that 'works of other traditions have been discovered as objects worthy of preservation, care, aesthetic mediation, scholarly investigation in the first place.' He is a supporter of the Western tradition as he considers it is the only one that answer such questions as why an object looks the way it does, what it its meaning, why was it produced. Only the Western tradition, Kesner says, has been able to be enriched by the contact with other cultures.
         
        He adds that an alternative - a truly muliticultural history - would treat works of art in the specific spatiotemporal horizon of their production. This would lead to art history based on a 'dense mosaic of narrowly defined cultural groups....irreconcilable with the 'need to meaningfully organise this diversity into larger plots and narratives...'.
         
        As H&N point out, the chapter has then gone full circle, from describing and challenging the received wisdoms of traditional history, then ending with 'challenging the challenge', i.e, in simple terms, maybe the Western art tradition is not so bad after all as it provides the only realistic framework for the analysis, classification and reasoning of art in general.
         
        Of course, what H&N could have gone on to say is why bother at all? Is the goal of analysing, classifying and reasoning of art a worthwhile one? Why not simply accept art as it IS? It is, after all, visual. There is a certain irony in using words to describe visual culture. It is a very Western tradition even to desire the academic study of art; other cultures seem to have managed very well for centuries producing the output without the need to analyse the whats, hows, and whys of the production. 

Visual Culture by Howells and Negreiros Chapter 2: Form



Moving on from the what (the subject) to the how (the manner), this is the role of form in visual texts.

For Panofsky, subject and meaning were pretty much the same thing. This works for many images, but not for modern art, such as the work of Jackson Pollock.

H&N then describe the theories of Roger Fry. Born in nineteenth century, Fry became convinced over a number of years after developing a love for post impressionist paintings, that there was more to art than the simple imitation of reality. (I would add here that there simply has to be for photography ever to be considered art). We had reached the point in painting where realism had no further to go ( to a degree, therefore, the theory of what we see in visual culture was following the trend in art away from realism, there was a need to understand what Monet et al were all about).

'If imitation is the sole purpose of the graphic arts, it is surprising that the works of such arts are ever looked upon as more than curiosities or ingenious toys', he said.

Fry said people have two types of life: actual and imaginative. A piece of art is to be considered 'as an expression of emotions regarded as an end in themselves.'

This was way too far for contemporary thought. His exhibition of Manet and Post-Impressionists in London created scorn and anger. The problem was Fry's analysis permitted, encouraged even, anyone, to understand art. It was no longer an elitist occupation to understand the subject (the reactionary nature of the art establishment is a recurrent theme) as even the maid had 'a certain sensibility' allowing her to appreciate a Matisse.

We can explain this by reference to the form of the piece of art. H&N then make an analogy with music, pointing out that often (eg in Nessun Dorma) words are not an integral part of our emotional reaction to the work, but rather the form of the tune, the melody. I would summarise this simply by saying the whole is more than the sum of the parts. In this way, painting might be viewed as 'music for the eyes'.

Fry devised an order to his thoughts. We need order (to avoid confusion) and variety (to avoid boredom). Artists arouse emotions by the 'emotional elements of design':
        Rhythmn of the line - the line is what delineates objects
        Mass - way in which bulk is communicated
        Space - way in which size is communicated, and proportion
        Light and shade - alters feelings to subject
        Colour - direct emotional effect

I can see here the roots of part of The Photographer's Eye and much of The Art of Photography. Come back to the point that, in this analysis, photography can only be about form, because reality is a given.

H&N then use these guidelines to analyze Cezanne's Still Life with Milk Jug and Fruit.

Even more important, form is the only way to make sense of modern art such as that of Pollock or Rothko, to understand, respectively, the anger and depression depicted by their work. We must use form because there is no subject; Panofsky's  iconographical scheme cannot work because he aligns subject matter and meaning, if there is no subject there is no meaning, yet all artwork has SOME  meaning.

H&N conclude that the answer to form (Fry) vs content (Panofsky) depends on the actual work of art under consideration. Panofsky's approach works for Renaissance artists, Fry's for Post-Impressionism.

Ultimately, the Formalists have helped us understand the nature of art itself. The action works of Pollock and Rothko can be understood as well as the paintings of Rembrandt if we realize they are all to a degree self-portraits. If we see something of ourselves in them, the artist's work is done.