There are accidents that we might consider art. Here, I would define accident as that which results from something other than a consciously aware process. A thinking creative being might produce a work of art from an unconscious or accidental process. An artist might accidentally smudge their artwork. A glassblower, potter, or metal smith might unintentionally alter the form of their piece, a composer might hit an unintended key or chord. These artists, and their audiences, could realize that their accidents resulted in artworks that were superior to their imagined, intended pieces.
A lightening strike, a flood, a landslide, a meteor, a wind storm, a blizzard, an ice storm, even a fire, are all examples of agents that have the ability to act upon the environment accidentally, but in such a manner that they could produce what we would consider spectacular works of art.
So my question is: Do you have to be a thinking, creative, sentient being to create art? Is art necessarily created solely by the agency of a living, or sentient actor? Or is art necessarily dependent upon the passive recipient of its form? Or can it be either? Again, what is art? Who defines what is art? Who defines who/what is an artist, or an agent of artistic expression. This conversation reminds me of Davies' dilemma regarding music's capacity to express emotions.
Ah, philosophy.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Response to Emily’s Question
“If you think animals are "persons", do you also consider human fetuses "persons"? What about animal eggs? Where do you draw the line?”
I consider all sentient life forms as persons. I consider embryonic forms of sentient life in one of their viable stages of evolution from embryo to self-existence as a member of their particular species also as persons.
I do not consider infertile eggs as “persons” because their particular inviable embryonic state is incapable of ever developing into a member of their species.
For me, the crux of the matter is Emily’s question, “Where do you draw the line?” I have no satisfactory answer to this conundrum, only musings. I believe the answer lies in a philosophy of a value-based hierarchy of determinants.
I believe all life forms, by nature of their very existence, deserve our respect and the right not to be abused. Yet I will kill mosquitoes, deer flies, black flies, ticks, fleas, or any other insects I find biting me, or one of my friends, or animals. I feel justified in taking the life of an insect that I believe is endangering them or me. I do not feel justified in taking the life of bees or bugs that have accidently wandered from their normal outside habitat into my home habitat, because I do not perceive their co-occupying our home as a deliberate intent on their part to do us harm. Nor do I perceive their potential to harm us, should they bite us, as significant.
Were I to think rationally about the subject, I would have to admit that the nation states of mosquitoes, horse flies, deer flies, black flies, ticks, fleas, and other biting insects are not at war with me and mine. They simply require the blood of other living beings in order for them and their offspring to survive. Their predation on us is the result of a natural evolutionary pattern that was created during the co-evolution of our species on this planet. Since our species continue sharing habitat, I need to consider that we non-insectivorous animals may be receiving some benefit from the relationship. However, I do not feel sympathy or empathy for any of them, or theirs, and referring to their progeny as offspring caused me to cringe. I do not consider them sentient beings, as I do butterflies, dragonflies, ladybugs, or bumblebees. I do not find them or their progeny cute, cuddly, or capable of inspiring any stirrings within me to grant them moral patient status, or honorary person status.
Evidently, for me, where I draw the line depends on what my relationship is with the living being. My relationship with them is dependent on my aesthetic perception of them and my belief that they are, or are not, predisposed to cause harm to me or others for whom I care. I am forced to conclude that my personal value-based hierarchy of determinant philosophy suffers a speciesist as well as aesthetic point of view.
MY QUESTIONS:
Is it unethical to view species as deserving (or undeserving) of our protection based on our aesthetic perceptions of them?
Why are we as a species prone to protect butterflies and eradicate fleas?
Is it ethical to seek to eliminate species because they have the potential to harm us or species we value?
I consider all sentient life forms as persons. I consider embryonic forms of sentient life in one of their viable stages of evolution from embryo to self-existence as a member of their particular species also as persons.
I do not consider infertile eggs as “persons” because their particular inviable embryonic state is incapable of ever developing into a member of their species.
For me, the crux of the matter is Emily’s question, “Where do you draw the line?” I have no satisfactory answer to this conundrum, only musings. I believe the answer lies in a philosophy of a value-based hierarchy of determinants.
I believe all life forms, by nature of their very existence, deserve our respect and the right not to be abused. Yet I will kill mosquitoes, deer flies, black flies, ticks, fleas, or any other insects I find biting me, or one of my friends, or animals. I feel justified in taking the life of an insect that I believe is endangering them or me. I do not feel justified in taking the life of bees or bugs that have accidently wandered from their normal outside habitat into my home habitat, because I do not perceive their co-occupying our home as a deliberate intent on their part to do us harm. Nor do I perceive their potential to harm us, should they bite us, as significant.
Were I to think rationally about the subject, I would have to admit that the nation states of mosquitoes, horse flies, deer flies, black flies, ticks, fleas, and other biting insects are not at war with me and mine. They simply require the blood of other living beings in order for them and their offspring to survive. Their predation on us is the result of a natural evolutionary pattern that was created during the co-evolution of our species on this planet. Since our species continue sharing habitat, I need to consider that we non-insectivorous animals may be receiving some benefit from the relationship. However, I do not feel sympathy or empathy for any of them, or theirs, and referring to their progeny as offspring caused me to cringe. I do not consider them sentient beings, as I do butterflies, dragonflies, ladybugs, or bumblebees. I do not find them or their progeny cute, cuddly, or capable of inspiring any stirrings within me to grant them moral patient status, or honorary person status.
Evidently, for me, where I draw the line depends on what my relationship is with the living being. My relationship with them is dependent on my aesthetic perception of them and my belief that they are, or are not, predisposed to cause harm to me or others for whom I care. I am forced to conclude that my personal value-based hierarchy of determinant philosophy suffers a speciesist as well as aesthetic point of view.
MY QUESTIONS:
Is it unethical to view species as deserving (or undeserving) of our protection based on our aesthetic perceptions of them?
Why are we as a species prone to protect butterflies and eradicate fleas?
Is it ethical to seek to eliminate species because they have the potential to harm us or species we value?
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
What does it mean to "take an aesthetic interest in musical works as music"?
To "take an aesthetic interest in musical works as music" means that we confer value of any musical work as intrinsic to the work itself as music. The value of the musical work is inherent in the experience of our relationship to the piece itself, exclusive of the nature of its elements, as in its genre, or compositional aspects like melodies, rhythms, harmonies, or performance, or how they come together to form complex wholes; its value is intrinsic, not instrumental, or a means to some ends.
Davies states, “particular musical works are valued for themselves over and above their contribution to the production of the benefits of a concern with music in general” (p212). He claims the relationship between interests in particular musical works as music with interest in music in general “is to be characterized negatively” (p212).
Davies (p196-198) perceives the nature of evaluation with its inherent prescriptive function and the activity of evaluating music as leading to an aesthetic interest in musical works as music. He believes that standards of musical evaluation are conditional on the type of interest we take in musical works and the way different experiences of music and of different musical works are enjoyable. The activity of evaluation is predicated upon our descriptions of music, which are vital to our understanding and appreciation of music as an art form.
As a philosopher, Davies presents the ontological requirements for the evaluation of music, to identify the distinctive things categorized as “music,” to distinguish between a musical work and its performances, and an aesthetic interest in musical works as music. He states, “Evaluations are understood as judgments about their objects…judgments of value are subject to justification… (meritorious) evaluations can be supported by interpersonal reasons…based in uniformed responses” (197).
There is no democratic equality among the various art forms. This truth-condition applies equally to the art form known as music. Music’s artistic value and integrity require the incorporation and display of weighty compositional complexity commensurate to the same demands we impose on all art (http://www.iep.utm.edu/m/music-po.htm).
Davies writes that “The evaluation of musical works aesthetically and as music has a special status. The specialness of those standards of evaluation derives from the specialness of the interest to which they are relative. According to Davies, the value of art emerges from its affect on our approach to, and understanding of, matters that are non-artistically important for us (206). Davies posits that musical standards of evaluation enjoy privileged status because they provide the rationale for distinguishing music from sound, noise, or birdsong…” (199).
Our predilection to confer value on art is intrinsically married to our perception of the nature of artistic content as life enriching. Davies believes that without an aesthetic interest in musical works as music, it would be pointless to create or perform music.
MY QUESTIONS:
1. What constitutes a “sufficient number” of particular works?
What constitutes a “sufficient number” of occasions? (P 207)
2. Can art be separated from creativity?
If not, wouldn’t it by its very nature, affect the very fiber of our being, and therefore affect all aspects of our lives?
Davies states, “particular musical works are valued for themselves over and above their contribution to the production of the benefits of a concern with music in general” (p212). He claims the relationship between interests in particular musical works as music with interest in music in general “is to be characterized negatively” (p212).
Davies (p196-198) perceives the nature of evaluation with its inherent prescriptive function and the activity of evaluating music as leading to an aesthetic interest in musical works as music. He believes that standards of musical evaluation are conditional on the type of interest we take in musical works and the way different experiences of music and of different musical works are enjoyable. The activity of evaluation is predicated upon our descriptions of music, which are vital to our understanding and appreciation of music as an art form.
As a philosopher, Davies presents the ontological requirements for the evaluation of music, to identify the distinctive things categorized as “music,” to distinguish between a musical work and its performances, and an aesthetic interest in musical works as music. He states, “Evaluations are understood as judgments about their objects…judgments of value are subject to justification… (meritorious) evaluations can be supported by interpersonal reasons…based in uniformed responses” (197).
There is no democratic equality among the various art forms. This truth-condition applies equally to the art form known as music. Music’s artistic value and integrity require the incorporation and display of weighty compositional complexity commensurate to the same demands we impose on all art (http://www.iep.utm.edu/m/music-po.htm).
Davies writes that “The evaluation of musical works aesthetically and as music has a special status. The specialness of those standards of evaluation derives from the specialness of the interest to which they are relative. According to Davies, the value of art emerges from its affect on our approach to, and understanding of, matters that are non-artistically important for us (206). Davies posits that musical standards of evaluation enjoy privileged status because they provide the rationale for distinguishing music from sound, noise, or birdsong…” (199).
Our predilection to confer value on art is intrinsically married to our perception of the nature of artistic content as life enriching. Davies believes that without an aesthetic interest in musical works as music, it would be pointless to create or perform music.
MY QUESTIONS:
1. What constitutes a “sufficient number” of particular works?
What constitutes a “sufficient number” of occasions? (P 207)
2. Can art be separated from creativity?
If not, wouldn’t it by its very nature, affect the very fiber of our being, and therefore affect all aspects of our lives?
Professor as Mythic Santa
Response to questions raised today in class regarding DKJ’s grading policy.
Questions/concerns have been raised in class on more than 2 occasions regarding DKJ’s criteria for grading students (subsequent to a thorough review of Handout A: Class Policies and Expectations on the first day of class, which remains posted on his website).
Among other things, Handout A states, “The best students attend all classes, participate regularly, thoughtfully, and respectfully; consistently produce high quality work and meet all deadlines; … and, most generally, openly, deliberately, and with enthusiasm embrace this and other formal opportunities for intellectual, scholarly growth.”
Some students have regularly missed classed. Some often come to class unprepared. Some have been less than considerate about sharing “air-time” during discussions – even when they are unprepared or have missed consecutive days of class. Yet these same students can still choose to provide 2 substantive, topic related, non-diary-like blogs each week, or choose instead, to provide the 10-12 page multi-stage, highly polished and thoughtful persuasive research essay.
Some of the above-described students are using our shared class time to question the grading policy. (Refer to Handout A: "Consult with the professor during office hours when necessary.")
I believe that an experienced, well-respected, tenured professor, who is outstanding in his field, and who has the added benefit of being a parent, is sufficiently qualified to determine a fair grading policy in his courses. And like Santa, he also knows who attends class, who prepares for class, who writes relevant, substantive blogs, how often they write them, and what grade each student has earned.
MY QUESTIONS:
How do you think your experience as a student seeking intellectual, scholarly growth is affected by classmates' unprepared or irrelevant participation in "discussions"?
What are some kind, helpful, and effective tips we could employ to keep discussions relevant to topic and intellectually stimulating for the class as a whole?
Questions/concerns have been raised in class on more than 2 occasions regarding DKJ’s criteria for grading students (subsequent to a thorough review of Handout A: Class Policies and Expectations on the first day of class, which remains posted on his website).
Among other things, Handout A states, “The best students attend all classes, participate regularly, thoughtfully, and respectfully; consistently produce high quality work and meet all deadlines; … and, most generally, openly, deliberately, and with enthusiasm embrace this and other formal opportunities for intellectual, scholarly growth.”
Some students have regularly missed classed. Some often come to class unprepared. Some have been less than considerate about sharing “air-time” during discussions – even when they are unprepared or have missed consecutive days of class. Yet these same students can still choose to provide 2 substantive, topic related, non-diary-like blogs each week, or choose instead, to provide the 10-12 page multi-stage, highly polished and thoughtful persuasive research essay.
Some of the above-described students are using our shared class time to question the grading policy. (Refer to Handout A: "Consult with the professor during office hours when necessary.")
I believe that an experienced, well-respected, tenured professor, who is outstanding in his field, and who has the added benefit of being a parent, is sufficiently qualified to determine a fair grading policy in his courses. And like Santa, he also knows who attends class, who prepares for class, who writes relevant, substantive blogs, how often they write them, and what grade each student has earned.
MY QUESTIONS:
How do you think your experience as a student seeking intellectual, scholarly growth is affected by classmates' unprepared or irrelevant participation in "discussions"?
What are some kind, helpful, and effective tips we could employ to keep discussions relevant to topic and intellectually stimulating for the class as a whole?
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Thoughts on Music as Language
From http://music.arts.uci.edu/dobrian/CD.music.lang.htm#as
Music expresses, at different moments, serenity or exuberance, regret or triumph, fury or delight. It expresses each of these moods, and many others, in a numberless variety of subtle shadings and differences. It may even express a state of meaning for which there exists no adequate word in any language. In that case, musicians often like to say that it has only a purely musical meaning. They sometimes go farther and say that all music has only a purely musical meaning. What they really mean is that no appropriate word can be found to express the music's meaning and that, even if it could, they do not feel the need of finding it.
My own belief is that all music has an expressive power, some more and some less, but that all music has a certain meaning behind the notes and that that meaning behind the notes constitutes, after all, what the piece is saying, what the piece is about. This whole problem can be stated quite simply by asking, "Is there a meaning to music?" My answer to that would be, "Yes." And "Can you state in so many words what the meaning is?" My answer to that would be, "No." Therein lies the difficulty.
From Garry L. Hagberg, Review of Themes in the Philosophy of Music by Stephen Davies:
(Also posted by DKJ on Daily Phlog)
The fact that music is not a semantic system the coherence of which is ordered by syntactic rules should not blind us to the fact that there is such a thing as melodic coherence as an (perhaps rough, but potentially nevertheless illuminating) analogy to the much-discussed unity of the proposition. There are antecedent-consequent melodic structures that function, in thematic terms, dialogically. There are analogues to syntactic rules that function as coherence-preservers -- and this itself would be wide ranging, from diatonic harmony to serial ordering. There are thematic analogies to Wittgensteinian language-games, where a given move is made possible by prior ordered moves within the circumscribed limits of the game. There are structural analogues in composition to metaphorical restatement in language beyond Goodmanian issues of exemplification. There are deep analogies between our ways of speaking about aspects or parts of language that directly mirror our ways of speaking about music (shown in Davies' own insightful discussion of transcriptions, where he rightly concludes that transcriptions are of independent value in their own right even where we have the original to hand precisely because the transcription functions as a commentary on the original.) There are countless intricate ways -- far more intricate, and I think far more interesting than the rather blunt semantic-syntactic point -- where the analogy between the arts and language misleads (and has historically misled) aesthetic theory. And there are very many more such avenues for explanation that are prematurely closed by the semantic-syntactic point. (And of course that point itself is not as bluntly factual as it may seem -- music, as no one would dispute, can and has often been representational, also in numerous ways, so the link between mimetic content and semantic function deserves at the very least mid-length shrift.) Moreover, the characterization of language upon which the semantic-syntactic point is based is itself highly reductive and oversimplified: language does countless things, and again it would be a considerable pleasure to see a thinker of Davies' gifts treat these matters fully. Writing of the problem of musical ontology, Davies says: "The totality of musical works from culture to culture and from time to time do not have any single ontological character. Some musical works are thick with properties, others are thinner -- some works include the performance means as part of their essential nature, and much more besides, whereas others are more or less pure sound structures" (p. 77). Should we expect the primary "home" of meaning -- language -- to be any less diversified?
Music expresses, at different moments, serenity or exuberance, regret or triumph, fury or delight. It expresses each of these moods, and many others, in a numberless variety of subtle shadings and differences. It may even express a state of meaning for which there exists no adequate word in any language. In that case, musicians often like to say that it has only a purely musical meaning. They sometimes go farther and say that all music has only a purely musical meaning. What they really mean is that no appropriate word can be found to express the music's meaning and that, even if it could, they do not feel the need of finding it.
My own belief is that all music has an expressive power, some more and some less, but that all music has a certain meaning behind the notes and that that meaning behind the notes constitutes, after all, what the piece is saying, what the piece is about. This whole problem can be stated quite simply by asking, "Is there a meaning to music?" My answer to that would be, "Yes." And "Can you state in so many words what the meaning is?" My answer to that would be, "No." Therein lies the difficulty.
From Garry L. Hagberg, Review of Themes in the Philosophy of Music by Stephen Davies:
(Also posted by DKJ on Daily Phlog)
The fact that music is not a semantic system the coherence of which is ordered by syntactic rules should not blind us to the fact that there is such a thing as melodic coherence as an (perhaps rough, but potentially nevertheless illuminating) analogy to the much-discussed unity of the proposition. There are antecedent-consequent melodic structures that function, in thematic terms, dialogically. There are analogues to syntactic rules that function as coherence-preservers -- and this itself would be wide ranging, from diatonic harmony to serial ordering. There are thematic analogies to Wittgensteinian language-games, where a given move is made possible by prior ordered moves within the circumscribed limits of the game. There are structural analogues in composition to metaphorical restatement in language beyond Goodmanian issues of exemplification. There are deep analogies between our ways of speaking about aspects or parts of language that directly mirror our ways of speaking about music (shown in Davies' own insightful discussion of transcriptions, where he rightly concludes that transcriptions are of independent value in their own right even where we have the original to hand precisely because the transcription functions as a commentary on the original.) There are countless intricate ways -- far more intricate, and I think far more interesting than the rather blunt semantic-syntactic point -- where the analogy between the arts and language misleads (and has historically misled) aesthetic theory. And there are very many more such avenues for explanation that are prematurely closed by the semantic-syntactic point. (And of course that point itself is not as bluntly factual as it may seem -- music, as no one would dispute, can and has often been representational, also in numerous ways, so the link between mimetic content and semantic function deserves at the very least mid-length shrift.) Moreover, the characterization of language upon which the semantic-syntactic point is based is itself highly reductive and oversimplified: language does countless things, and again it would be a considerable pleasure to see a thinker of Davies' gifts treat these matters fully. Writing of the problem of musical ontology, Davies says: "The totality of musical works from culture to culture and from time to time do not have any single ontological character. Some musical works are thick with properties, others are thinner -- some works include the performance means as part of their essential nature, and much more besides, whereas others are more or less pure sound structures" (p. 77). Should we expect the primary "home" of meaning -- language -- to be any less diversified?
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