Tag: art

Posted on

Why Tattoos Bug Me (and perhaps you)

By Jim Spiegel

For as long as I can remember, I have been annoyed by tattoos. Well, mainly the kind that are prominently displayed, especially on people’s torsos. And for as long as I’ve been bothered by them, I’ve wondered why they bug me. After all, people adorn their bodies in all sorts of other ways—with jewelry, piercings, make-up, etc.—and those things don’t usually annoy me. So why tattoos? My frustration at not knowing why they bother me so much has only been aggravated by the fact that, apparently, they bother many other people too. Yet, as I’ve discussed the matter with a lot of folks who feel the same way, they are almost always at a loss to explain their displeasure and usually throw it up to inexplicable personal distaste. Well, recently the reason for my distaste finally dawned on me, and so I will now share it with you, gentle reader.

from NextLuxury.com
from NextLuxury.com

We’ve all had the experience of encountering the elaborate dragon, butterfly, skull, jungle scene, abstract image or geometrical shape tatted on the back of that guy or gal in front of us at the grocery store, and we’ve been impressed by the exquisite detail or perhaps completely perplexed by what we were seeing. Then when s/he suddenly turned around, we looked away just in time before the person caught us gawking at her/him. Whew. But, then again, while staring at the tattoo, was it really her/him we were looking at?

Tattoos are typically intended to be artistic or, one might say, even genuine works of art. And works of art are supposed to be enjoyable objects of aesthetic pleasure. Art works also welcome study and analysis, and in the case of visual arts this means careful and extensive visual examination. However, the bodies of fellow human beings whom we do not know very well are not properly objects of intensive visual study. To stare at or closely examine another person’s body in public is, well, rude and inappropriate.

And there lies the problem with many tattoos, it seems to me. A prominent, eye-catching tattoo invites or tempts others, even complete strangers, to closely examine the person’s body—that is, to do something that is rude and inappropriate. And the stronger one’s visual aesthetic sensibility, it would seem the stronger that temptation will likely be. Now the tattoo fan will likely respond here by saying “too bad, just ignore it.” Well, of course, that’s just what I struggle to do every time I encounter someone in public who has a prominent tattoo. I restrain myself and look away—anywhere but at that person’s body. But in doing so, I must exert mental energy to avoid doing so. And, the more artistic and aesthetically interesting the tattoo, the more mental energy I must expend and the harder I must work to distract myself from looking at the image.

Now here’s an analogy. We all know—or should know, anyway—that it’s often rude to whistle tunes in public spaces. While the whistler might enjoy the melody s/he is making, it is unwelcome to others and a sonic distraction. Of course, the whistler might say, “too bad, just ignore it.” But that is to give oneself license to sonically impose on others for the sake of their own “art.” Yes, we can ignore it, but many times that’s difficult, and it requires an extra exertion of mental energy to do so. Which is why the whistling is rude and inconsiderate. Similarly, prominent tattoos are an imposition on others—a visual imposition that places a burden on others to exert a bit more mental energy to “ignore” it. And, similarly, it is rude and inconsiderate. But what’s worse in the case of tattoos, the imposition they place on others is also a temptation to do something inappropriate—gawk at a stranger’s body in public. So as annoying as the public whistler is, at least they don’t tempt me to do something inappropriate (assuming their whistling isn’t so bad that I’m tempted to slug them).

In sum, then, prominent tattoos are a rude imposition on others, as they invite people to see the human body as an object and in so doing tempt them to do something inappropriate. That’s why tattoos bug me. And perhaps that’s why they bug you, too.

Posted on

Why Beauty is an Objective Quality in the World

By Jim Spiegel

In my February 12 post I presented an anti-naturalist argument from beauty.  A key premise of this argument is that beauty is an objective quality in the world.  This view is known as aesthetic objectivism.  Before offering some reasons in defense of this view, let me first explain the contrary perspective known as aesthetic relativism.  The aesthetic relativist maintains that aesthetic values, such as “beautiful,” “elegant,” “ugly,” “sublime,” or “poignant,” are entirely relative to the preferences of individuals or cultures.  So, for example, an aesthetic subjectivist would say that all aesthetic judgments are relative to the individual.  Or, as it is popularly expressed, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”  The somewhat less common brand of relativism is aesthetic cultural relativism, which says that all aesthetic judgments are relative to particular cultures.

Notice that both forms of aesthetic relativism deny that there is any objective sense in which beauty or other aesthetic values exist in the world.  So according to relativism, an artwork (such as a poem or a film) or a part of nature (such as a flower, a sunset, or a human face) is not beautiful in itself but is only pleasing to a person or group of people.  Aesthetic judgments (like “this song is lovely” or “that painting is ugly”) do not reveal facts about the world but only reflect observer responses to aspects of the world.

While the claim that all aesthetic judgments are relative to a person or culture has a generous ring about it, a bit of reflection reveals the view to be absurd.  First, consider the implications of aesthetic relativism when it comes to comparing works of art.  My four-year-old daughter, Maggie, loves to draw, and on our refrigerator there are several samples of her recent work, including a crude drawing of three horses.  It is rendered entirely with a pink marker, and the horses have rectangular bodies and triangular heads.  So, we might ask, how does Maggie’s Three Horses composition compare, in terms of aesthetic quality, to, say, Leonardo Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa?  Is one of these works superior (i.e. more objectively beautiful) to the other?  Not according to aesthetic relativism.  Remember, on this view no work of art can be objectively superior to another, because the relativist maintains that beauty is entirely relative to individual or cultural preference.  So if I happen to prefer Maggie’s Three Horses to Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, then the former is superior to the latter for me.  Or if a given culture—because of, say, a prevailing fancy for the color pink—preferred Maggie’s drawing, then Three Horses would be superior for that culture.  In neither case could it be said that the Da Vinci painting is aesthetically superior to Maggie’s drawing in an absolute sense.

Such a relativist view contradicts common sense.  Obviously the Mona Lisa is superior to Maggie’s line drawings, regardless of how fond I might be of my daughter’s efforts.  But the only way this judgment can make sense is if beauty is an objective fact, not merely a matter of individual or cultural preference.  Only an objectivist view can account for the common sense distinction we ordinarily make between personal tastes and real excellence in works of art.  So if we are to maintain (as we should) that the Mona Lisa is better than my daughter’s drawing, we must admit that aesthetic qualities (whether good or bad) are public facts about the world.  In other words, beauty is an objective quality of things. 

A second argument for aesthetic objectivism appeals to the universal, time-tested appreciation of many works of art.  Educated people will agree, as they have for centuries, that Shakespeare’s King Lear is a great play, that Handel’s Messiah is an excellent piece of music, and that Michelangelo’s David is a superb sculpture.  How do we explain this consensus of opinion among intelligent connoisseurs of art, except by acknowledging that the tremendous aesthetic qualities of these works are public facts?  If aesthetic relativism is true, then the convergence of opinion by hosts of art critics is mere coincidence.  There just happen to have been similarly positive responses to these artworks across cultures for hundreds of years.  But, of course, this is absurd.  So aesthetic objectivism must be true.

Third, consider the fact that we often debate the quality of artworks and we sometimes change our opinions about whether a film, book, or song is good or not.  We might find ourselves defending the merit of a novel we have read or saying something like “I was wrong about that film.  I think it is good after all.”  These are everyday occurrences in discussions of art, and they confirm the basic intuition that aesthetic judgments are objective, whether correct or incorrect.  Aesthetic qualities must be public facts and not simply subjective or cultural responses.  Otherwise, we could not meaningfully argue about them or improve our views on works of art.

For such reasons as these, we can safely say that beauty and related aesthetic attributes are not merely in the eye of the beholder or a matter of cultural preference.  They are objectively real facts about the world. 

[My arguments here are adapted from my article “Good Art and Bad Art: What is the Difference?” in Areopagus Journal, 4:1 (January-February 2004).  For an extended defense of aesthetic objectivism, including an elaboration on some of the arguments that I employ here, see Eddy M. Zemach, Real Beauty (University Park, PA: Penn State Press, 1997).]

Posted on

Culturally Liberal and Morally Conservative

By Jim Spiegel

The recent discussion of gay marriage (see my October 2 post and related comments) has reminded me once again how difficult it is to be both culturally liberal and morally conservative.  It seems that today most folks fall into one of these categories but not the other.  That is, people tend to be either culturally liberal or morally conservative.  By culturally liberal I mean someone who readily recognizes and aggressively pursues truth, goodness, and beauty in culture-from politics and higher learning to art forms such as film, literature, and popular music.  By contrast, a cultural conservative would be someone who does not share this inclination but rather is suspicious of culture and human creative expressions.  A parallel distinction can be made regarding a person’s moral sensibilities.  Moral liberals are those who readily embrace shifts in ethical standards, while moral conservatives are suspicious of such change.

Perhaps it is only natural that people tend to be liberal or conservative generally rather than according to context or subject matter.  That is, our tendency to be liberal or conservative is not isolated to particular areas or issues.  It’s no coincidence that the artistic centers of our culture, from Hollywood and Broadway to art institutes and MTV, are also the most morally liberal communities.  And it’s also not coincidental that the most morally conservative communities tend to have little interest in the arts.  Similarly, the press and media, as well as the most prestigious centers of learning tend to be liberal, while people from the most morally conservative faith traditions are those who are least likely to run in these cultural circles.

Now these are very general observations, I know.  But these tendencies should be obvious enough to all of us.  I consider it to be a tragic trend, as it is the timeless moral truths which made American culture possible in the first place and which will sustain it as long as it lasts.  While it is appropriate to question or reject artistic norms and institutional conventions, moral verities such as the sanctity of human life and sexuality cannot be rejected without devastating repercussions, both in individual lives and culture at large.

So the noble challenge, as I see it, is to vigorously explore the arts and other aspects of contemporary culture while maintaining one’s ethical moorings; to remain committed to abiding ethical principles without sacrificing the will to eagerly pursue truth, goodness, and beauty in human creations-in short, to be a cultural liberal and a moral conservative.  It’s a challenge because somehow, at least at this time in our history, it is unnatural.  And it’s a noble challenge because it is for our own good-both as individuals and as a society.