What is Visual Studies in relation to art history and aesthetics?
Based on the readings, there is a resistance to introducing (or giving agency to) Visual Studies as the “new art history.” One of the main arguments is that Visual Studies is not historical, but anthropological. Since art history and aesthetics are pedigree, Visual Studies, as a hybrid offspring, is not. Aby Warburg’s methods are suddenly reconsidered for this emergent sub-genre or sub-discipline. This “new art history” trades formalisms, iconology/iconography, and social history for psychoanalysis, semiotics, identity, technology and globalism. Visual Studies is isolated or alienated from the “true” art history. Historians like Hal Foster and Rosalind Krauss oppose the transition because the shift is too general. Art historians ultimately fear a decline in literacy.
As Susan Buck-Morss says, “Visual culture, once a foreigner to the academy, has gotten its green card and is here to stay.” Most historians agree that a “critical analysis of the image as a social object” is necessary. This analysis should be both anthropological and sociological. This goes along with the question, Is the line between high art and mass culture still present? There is, of course, a paradox to Visual Studies: the viewing of art is defined solely by optical scope. If this is so, then it is believed that art plays only to the eye rather than to the mind and the senses. This is troubling because it excludes aesthetics and theory. Thomas Crow argues that Visual Studies is a modernist obsession with illusion. It can even be said that this spin-off is more of a scientific-based augmentation, which makes some art historians cringe—understandably so from their point of view.
This defensiveness and territorialness, according to W.J.T. Mitchell, is academically founded. It doesn’t welcome or encourage the emergent field of Visual Studies. He also states that the adopters of this new history haven’t come forth to defend appropriately as viable. Hence, Mitchell makes light of the fallacies against introducing Visual Studies and counters them with the example of his “showing seeing” exercise. “Showing Seeing: A Critique of Visual Culture” is reminiscent of C.P. Snow’s “two cultures” lamentation. Apparently, the divide within the humanities is gaping!
While Keith Moxey disagrees that (in an academic curriculum) Visual Studies is the obvious step towards the new global economy, he is inclined to recognize the emergent discipline because of its distinctiveness. He is interested in examining it for the production of art. To me, Visual Studies is like a Bauhaus. It is a sort of cosmology, an exploration of the origins of images in relation to art history and visual genres. (It’s called visual arts, isn’t it?) Rather than a post-structuralist or post-postmodern approach, it is a comprehensivist approach. Trading specialization for comprehension is necessary in this morphed society. But I am also left with questions about the usability of Visual Studies. I am fascinated by the Derridean idea that language is opaque; it doesn’t give access. How then would Visual Studies be used outside of academics? What does it mean to the curator? Does this mean that the museum is null and void? (A notion that is increasingly argued or believed.) It seems as though Visual Studies would require academic analysis in the form of an accompanied manual or user guide.
READINGS:
• “Nostalgia for the Real: The Troubled Relation of Art History to Visual Studies.” In Keith Moxey, The Practice of Persuasion: Paradox and Power in Art History (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2001), 103-123. • W. J. T. Mitchell, “Showing Seeing: A Critique of Visual Culture,” in Art History, Aesthetics, Visual Studies, ed. Michael Ann Holly and Keith Moxey (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), 231-50. • Visual Culture Questionnaire, October 77 (Summer 1996): 25-70.
Reflective Summary: “The Two Cultures” *
In his 1959 Rede lecture, “The Two Cultures”, C.P. Snow laments the intellectual divide between the natural sciences and the humanities—specifically literary arts. His tone throughout is one of frustration and persuasion for a growing problem of a cultural divide between two intellectually elite disciplines. Snow writes, “I believe the intellectual life of the whole of western society is increasingly being split into two polar groups.” Moreover, he is mainly concerned with the gap between education and economic status.
This difference can be attributed to the basis that, according to Snow, many scientists come from humble, low-income backgrounds while literary academics are born from well-to-do upbringings. Snow believes that scientists “have the future in their bones” and that the other group is focused on the past, preoccupied with traditional culture. These differences in intellectual interests are what keep the two disciplines from mingling. It is the elitist attitudes of each field that perpetuate the gap.
Snow has no tolerance for the lack of communication between science and the humanities. Furthermore, his disdain for social structure is critical in determining the underlying issue. He warns that if the gap is not bridged, science’s role in society will be one of misunderstanding and alienation. In the long run, this could potentially stifle our future progress. This is precisely why education plays a significant role in science’s cultural link to society. It is crucial to communicate with a wider audience. Though Snow points out that neither discipline wishes to be dumbed down in order to communicate with the masses. He states:
Most of my scientific acquaintances think that there is something in it, and so do most of the practicing artists I know. But I have been argued with by non-scientists of strong down-to-earth interests. Their view is that it is an over-simplification, and that if one is going to talk in these terms there ought to be at least three cultures. They argue that, though they are not scientists themselves, they would share a good deal of the scientific feeling. They would have as little use—perhaps, since they knew more about it, even less use—for the recent literary culture as the scientists themselves.
Lastly, Snow argues that, in order to preserve science’s cultural role, there must be less specialization in education. Commonality is vital, and differentiating the message for userability is key. In order to maintain society’s progress of innovation and creativity, it is important to find a way to speak to the general public about the practicality of the sciences. Science has the potential to uncover a deeper meaning of the nature of our existence. Thus, educating the public can lead first to understanding, then to acceptance, and ultimately support. Avoiding scientific illiteracy is paramount.
In conclusion, this argument at its essence is precisely what influences my research into the intersection of art and science. Considering that the museum offers an educational overview, it is this interest that leads me to an interdisciplinary partnership of the two fields. It is my goal to utilize the museum setting as a foundation for communication. Art for the sake of science is perhaps my biggest motivator. But, furthering this notion, it is my professional goal to popularize science and inspire the next generation of a combined science and art careers.
* This summary only reflects section I of Snow’s The Two Cultures and the Scientific Revolution.
Reflective Summary: “The Future of Science… Is Art?”
In early 2008, Jonah Lehrer wrote an article “The Future of Science… Is Art?” stressing the need to integrate the arts into the field of scientific research. He eloquently argues that, in order to continue the search for absolute knowledge, “Science needs the arts.” For example, studies like physics and neuroscience can only go so far with explaining and imagining the intangible truths of our human existence. To put it simply, science is limited by its reductionist methodologies. It is only with the help of artistic interpretation that science can advance because, as Lehrer says, “This world of human experience is the world of the arts.”
While scientists test variables to determine fixed truths, artists explore the psyche through artistic expression; art historians theorize the intrinsic essence of art in relation to anthropology. Professionals in both science and the arts continually search for meaning by asking questions, experimenting, and communicating. Because of this commonality, Lehrer believes that art has the distinct ability to augment science. He also wrote a book, Proust Was a Neuroscientist, demonstrating how the arts have long anticipated breakthroughs in science. Therefore, scientists need to form a partnership with artists in order to realize our scope of existence.
This proposition of interdisciplinary collaboration for innovation is not new; many professionals share this notion and agree that partnership is a necessary development. Lehrer suggests that science institutions should offer artist residencies to encourage this collaboration and that art galleries, in turn, should branch out and show artists exploring scientific concepts. This cross-pollination would be a step in the right direction, but change is incremental. NASA employed their first artist-in-residence, Laurie Anderson, in 2003. This program quickly ended in 2005 when a federal bill passed prohibiting NASA to use funds for artists-in-residence. The agency hasn’t sponsored an artist since.
Laurie Anderson performing “The End of the Moon,” the result of her NASA residency (via).
There are organizations attempting to tackle the issue and involve artists in scientific dialogue. Take for instance, The Arts Catalyst, a nonprofit organization attempting to engage the arts with science by presenting projects that blend the disciplines. But there aren’t too many models in existence with similar explorations. There are artists working directly with scientists to complete projects and vice versa, but, to this day, a solution to the science-arts cultural divide is still nonexistent.
A display of Olafur Eliasson’s models at SFMOMA.
One particular artist working with scientists is Olafur Eliasson. Yet this partnership only suits Eliasson’s needs as an artist. Rather than collaborating, he employs scientists to assist with his creations. This isn’t a criticism of Eliasson’s work. On the contrary, it is a realization that art and science need to interact with each other on the same plane. How can this partnership be accomplished without an opportunistic outcome? Essentially, it is imperative for both disciplines to work closely with one another without using each other for one’s own purposes.
A vision of the four cultures (via).
In May 2009, the New York Academy of Science hosted a symposium, “A Dangerous Divide: The Two Cultures in the 21st Century” honoring C.P. Snow’s “two cultures” observation. The symposium focused primarily on the divide between the general public and the scientific community, demonstrating how Snow’s gap between science and the literary arts has grown (or grown apart) to include politics and the media. Perhaps the underlying concern is that science no longer connects with popular culture—a more bleak metamorphosis or predicament.
