Staring is Power

The BBC just released its 2016 Most Striking Photographs of the Year.  Highlighting its artistic value Kelly Grovier summarizes the power inside this photograph:

"'Staring is power,' writes Kelly Grovier 'The ability to command another’s gaze, to transfix their mind and muscles by using nothing more than… one's unblinking eyes, requires discipline and courage of purpose.' This photo of a standoff between a protester and a Chilean policeman in Santiago prompted Grovier to consider the meaning of an unflinching gaze. In her 2010 work The Artist is Present, performance artist Marina Abramović stared into the eyes of visitors. It was a reminder of John Ruskin’s belief that 'All great and beautiful work has come of first gazing without shrinking into the darkness.'"

Interesting side note: John Ruskin was the art mentor of Lillias Trotter, of whom our daughter Hannah Lillias is named after.  

From Refugee to Refuge, A Christmas Prayer

Lord,
Be merciful to those with little hope,
To those who must flee their homeland.
Look with favor upon those who are surrounded by danger,
Become, for the refugee,
   a refuge.

Your Son after being honored by foreigners,
became hunted by the ruler of his own land.
To Egypt, to Africa,
He, who would become the world's ultimate refuge,
   Had become a child refugee.

Remember them Father,
With merciful eyes,
Look upon them like your Son.

Passion and Pizza Making

The first new Pizza Hut arrived in our town a few months ago.  Being a former employee and a softy for the deep-dish, we found ourselves checking it out a few weeks ago.  Heidi and I had an interesting conversation after we saw this advertisement on the interior wall of the Pizza Hut dining area:

   

"Passion."  "Inspired."  Pizza Hut cooks are passionate about making their pizzas.  Pizza Hut cooks are inspired to make something excellent.  They are not just experts apparently, they feel something deep down when they make their pizzas.  Of course, it is just a silly advertisement that probably only lives in the thoughts of some marketing executive.  That aside, the interesting part for me is why does the advertisement see those words as particularly powerful?  Why "passionate?"  Why "inspired?"  Why not say our cooks have thoroughly memorized all the best recipes for perfect pizza?  Why not our chefs perfectly follow all the spec-chart regulations for great pizza-making?

The answer is simple.   Because that is only half as good as someone who is actually passionate about what they do and what they create.  Someone who is passionate about what they do cares about the product they are making.  The person who has merely memorized spec-charts, does not necessarily care about the product he makes.  Pizza-making only has instrumental value to him.  He is actually passionate about something else (impressing the boss, keeping a pay-check to do more enjoyable activities, etc.).  Pizza-making only helps him, for the time being, accomplish other things that he is truly passionate about.

If the highest display of dedication to pizza-making involves passion, inspiration, and other deeply felt affections, then would it really be that different for measuring one's dedication to anything?  Would someone's dedication to a marriage or to a sports team or to a country be complete if they don't genuinely feel anything for it?  If they just simply do all the activities normally associated with it, and lets even say they do it with an unwavering consistency, does that sufficiently express the highest level of dedication?  Without any genuine feeling, it would seem not.

Knowing this, we were forced to ask: why then do most religious systems say the highest display of dedication to God is not something we feel, but the collection of things we do?  What are the typical reasons we think that Mother Theresa, for example, or the Dalai Lama, or the Ayatollah of Iran might demonstrate some of the highest levels of dedication to God?  I suppose we would say something like their fasting, their self-sacrifice, the hours of meditation, their memorizing large sections of holy books, or how meticulously they follow their moral codes, etc.

Of course, this type of dedication might show a true deep heart-felt passion for God.  But can you do all these things and not actually care about God in any ultimate sense?  The answer of course is yes.  In the same way a cook who merely follows the spec-chart rules because he is deeply passionate about something else (like saving for a new dirt-bike).  It is actually quite astounding the type of things we commit ourselves to, in hope that it leads to something else entirely.  And if this is the case about religion, then it would seem most religious systems (and even many religious people) have missed the main ingredient of true dedication:  Cultivating a genuine passion for God himself.

It reminds me again how unique Jesus' statement is that the greatest commandment (as well as the second greatest) is actually a feeling. (Matt 22:37-40).  Every other religious task and commitment only finds its meaning when it is orbiting around genuine love and passion for God, and others.  

Nicholas Wolterstorff's Cheap Shots

Those of you up to speed on Christian Philosophy know that Nicholas Wolterstorff is one of the big hitters.  Over at First Things, Wesley Hill gives a powerful response to a lecture on homosexuality that Wolterstorff gave last month.

Wesley’s article on First Things

The Nature of Beauty (Part 2)

The subjectivity of beauty, as the whole story, appears counter-intuitive from quite a few angles as we have seen.  But there are equally some reasons to think objective beauty might have its own problems as well.  I'll offer a few of those briefly.  However in the end I hope to show these problems are less formidable than they might initially appear.  And that the subjective component to beauty should really be limited to the applicational context of the experience of beauty, not the foundational (or ontological) component of what beauty is.

When it comes to beauty it seems obtuse to think one person's perspective must be right and the other must be wrong.  Imagine two siblings walking out of the movie theatre and the older sister exclaims "That movie was fantastic!" The little brother is unconvinced: "It was okay.  There were a lot cheesy scenes..."  he says.  But who is right?  The subjectivist wants to say why does someone have to be wrong?  The sister sees it as beautiful and the brother doesn't see it that way.  It is beautiful for her.  It is not beautiful for him.  And that's it.  No one is right, no one is wrong.  Along these lines the subjectivist could give even more stronger examples. Say a young man thinks a particular woman is beautiful and another man disagrees, it seems a bit crass to say that one of them must be mistaken (especially if the woman is the man's wife!).

This seems like a hard bullet to bite for the objectivist.  But is it?  Remember when your family brought out your grandmother's old wedding album.  What did they all say when they saw the photo of her in her bridal dress?  "Wow you look so beautiful!"  In that moment, your family is observing how dramatic the physical appearance has changed such that they are stunned by the beauty she once had.  Of course we are careful how we talk about a woman's changing beauty, but notice we can only make sense of situations like these by seeing it within the framework of an objectivist understanding of beauty.

Our intuitions about human beauty are difficult to adjudicate naturally, since we don't talk in certain ways about people's beauty often because it is rude, rather than because it is incorrect per se.  That said, looking at less complicated examples will be much more instructive for us.  So we can ask the question: Is a 7-year old banging on a piano on equal footing with the majestic works of Bach or Mozart?  Is my dog rubbing off mud onto onto a white canvas on equal footing with a famous portrait from Van Gogh or Rembrandt?  The subjectivist is strangely forced to say there is nothing intrinsically different about the beauty of each of these.  The resources of their view do not allow for that sort of distinction.  But the subjectivist does have a possible back door.  There could be an extrinsic (not intrinsic) way of grounding beauty which might salvage their view against these counter-intuitive examples.  How?

Cultural norms could seem to play a quasi-grounding role in settling obvious disagreements about beauty.  Since nothing is intrinsically beautiful in their view, some things can be said to be beautiful by general collective agreement (and to be not beautiful vise versa).  So the reason why a 7 year-old banging on a piano is not beautiful is because we as a culture do not see that as beautiful music (notice it has nothing to do with the quality of the sound itself).  Or the reason why Van Gogh produces masterful art is because the majority of people think so, not because of any sort of intrinsic qualities that are a part of his paintings.  Do you see the move here?  It is subjectivism on a community level, not on an individual level.  The community ultimately decides subjectively what is or is not beautiful.

But this maneuver suffers from quite a few major problems.  First, this position still would not be able to escape some of the problems already mentioned in the first article.  Particularly the third argument about beauty actually changing if perceptions of beauty change.  Again it is a bit confounding to have a view that might force one to say a painting was ugly in 1786, but the same painting somehow became beautiful in 1986, for example.  Second, it seems to give no room for artistic reformers.  A reformer by definition cuts against the grain of cultural traditions and perceptions.  But if cultural perceptions are the very definition of what beauty really is, any artistic reformer will always be producing works of art that are -by definition- not beautiful!  Third, attempts at defining what is a 'community' or 'culture' has proven to be admittedly quite arbitrary according to many anthropologists.  Lastly, art on this understanding seems to become something only meant to ultimately amuse and entertain.  If artistic beauty is being defined as the sort of thing that people just happen to 'like', it seems to rip away some very powerful features regarding the essence and function of what art really is.  Art is supposed to give meaning and power in some of the ideas it presents.  It is often intended to challenge people, to give new perspectives, to stimulate thought and reflection.  All these intrinsic categories are reduced away on this view.  There is no meta-narrative.  And what is left is a field that is strangely just a function of the entertainment industry.

But if beauty is an objective property, according to what standards or according to who's standards can we come to know whether something is actually beautiful?  It seems like it might be inevitably biased.  Who gets to decide what is beautiful?  And even if it is not biased, it would seem even the search for some objective standard would be a bit unwieldy.  What sort of standard could explain all the things we think are beautiful?

It is a good question, but notice this is an epistemological question.  It is a separate question entirely than the question of what beauty ultimately is.  Whether someone can tell you the aesthetic reasons why a piece of music is beautiful or not, has no bearing on whether its beauty is an objective reality.  Just because I can't define love doesn't mean it doesn't exist.  Likewise, whether a satisfactory definition of beauty can be given or not, doesn't directly address the question of the existence of objective beauty.  Nevertheless, I will try to give a possible direction that could start to answer this question.

Beauty is a sort of meta-property.  Its a property of a property.  That said, it comes at a certain level of abstraction (in the epistemological sense) that makes an intuitive definition difficult.  My first attempt at a definition might say:  Something is beautiful in so far as it reflects the order, proportionality, harmony, and/or grandeur of what is good, true, and real.  There is a lot that might be said here to try and clarify or defend, but I think I'll just let you chew on it for a while.  Is the definition too narrow?  Is it too vague?  I'd be intrigued to hear your thoughts, especially from some of you artists and musicians!

So if subjectivity is not at the center of how we think about beauty, what role does it play?  I'll try to unpack that in a final post.

Parent of the Year

Apparently there are rules that immediately disqualify you from becoming Parent of the Year.  I know this now.  A little too late.  If you are in the running, hope knowing these will help your chances.

(1) You might get disqualified if you've ever justified not brushing your kids teeth before bed, because "they're going to lose those teeth anyway."

(2) You might get disqualified if you're jealous that your wife has taught them to eat healthier food then you.

(3) You might get disqualified if you think one of the best chew toys for your baby is the chord of an electric phone charger.  There was a double disqualification on this one actually, they say electrocution AND strangling hazard.

(4) You might get disqualified if (because the elevator takes too long at the mall) you try to use a double-stroller on the escalator.

(5) You might get disqualified if you express how proud you are of your 1 1/2 year old being able to stuff 3 full cookies in his mouth.

(6) You might get disqualified if pee in their diaper isn't 'enough' to take the time to change it.

(7) You might get disqualified if you take pictures of your child's colored-in 'Hitler mustache' and post it on the internet.

Disclaimer: One out of the two parents in our family holds no guilt in the previously mentioned disqualifications.  The guilty party shall remain anonymous.  You'll be forced to guess with great difficulty I'm sure.

The Nature of Beauty (Part 1)

One of my favorite questions to ask a musician or artist is: "Is the beauty you try to create in your art objective or subjective?"  In other words, "Is the beauty you're trying to create simply in the eye of the beholder?"  The answer to this question carries with it some assumptions that I'm unsure whether people have thought much about.  I do believe there is a subjective experience of beauty, but I'd like to make a brief case for the position that beauty at its core is an actual property of objects or events.  That is, it is an objective reality.  But first, what does it even mean for beauty to be objective?

It means that beauty is something that exists in the object, not in our perception of the object.  It means beauty can be there whether any one sees it or not.  It means that people can perceive beauty correctly or incorrectly (now this is where toes get stepped on, but be patient).  It means there are some aesthetic standards fitting to the object, to the event, or to the art that make something beautiful or not.  So what reasons would compel us to think about beauty like this?  Here are a few:

Beauty seems to be something that an observer discovers, not something an observer creates.  The difference between discovering and creating is simply this:  I discover something that is already there.  But when I create something, it wasn't there before I created it.  When I look at a waterfall or a sunset, when I listen to a moving poem or song, it seems like we want to say I'm experiencing for the first time the beauty that was already there.  For example, I could have listened to a piece of music twenty times and felt nothing, maybe even disliked it.  But on the 21st time perhaps I sensed something wonderful about it (notice the language: 'about it') that I came to discover.  So when was the music beautiful?  This is an argument from intuition, but it would seem strange to say the music became beautiful at the 21st listening of it.  It seems much more natural to say I discovered its beauty on the 21st time I listened to it.  If that's true, beauty at its core is a property of an object not of a 'beholder.'

There are things to learn about creating beautiful art.  This seems obvious, but this is a powerful argument for objective beauty.  We have entire universities, schools, and departments dedicated to the training of young artists and musicians,  People hire tutors and instructors, we have libraries of books and research all for this expressed purpose.  The fact is however, training in the arts so that people refine their ability and sense for how to create beautiful art is a contradiction in a world where 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder.'  You cannot improve your art if there is no objective standard of what constitutes improvement. In fact, in this world artistic refinement and improvement does not actually exist.  This seems quite counter-intuitive.  If there is something to actually learn about creating beautiful art, than there is something non-subjective about beauty.

Things do not get more beautiful the more people like them.  For example, say we uncovered a new painting from Rembrandt last year.  Would we ever say things like: This painting had no beauty for 400 years, but now this year it has become beautiful? (because now the 'beholders' can see it).  We just don't talk like that, because our language betrays that we don't really think beauty works like that.  What we would say is:  The beauty of this painting lay hidden for centuries.  And now the beauty that was hidden in the painting has been uncovered.  Beauty is a property of objects, not of the people that perceive it.

Different levels of expertise are possible in art.  Do we not say that this person is an expert composer or she is a top film writer, etc?  According to what standards could someone know more than another about what is beautiful in the various arts?  Only if there are objective features to beauty, could someone then be more gifted than others in perceiving and producing beautiful things.

Disagreements about beauty are not meaningless.  It is one thing to say people need to be more open-minded in how they evaluate poetry, music, films, or other art.  It is another thing to say those evaluations are meaningless.  A world without objective beauty must see any disagreement about beautiful art as saying nothing more than: "I like this, You don't like this."  If you move beyond this, to give actual reasons why the person should like it, or should not like it, you're trying to use objective features of the art to evaluate its aesthetic value.  But there are no objective features that have aesthetic value in this world!  They must be committed to the position that beauty cannot be measured by anything objective.  But any artist knows that these evaluations whether given or received are not meaningless even if these evaluations could be mistaken.

God is beautiful whether anyone perceives Him that way or not (Psalm 27:4, 96:6). It is a theological fact that God was beautiful and majestic before creation ever existed.  That is, before there was anyone to perceive him.  And he has remained such even in the midst of a creation that largely doesn't see him as beautiful and supremely desirable.  God's aesthetic features don't change in value based on the perceivers (beholders) that might view him differently.

Why does this all matter?  Philosophers have a tough time knowing how to characterize the sort of thing beauty is.  Think of all the things we call beautiful: Stories, paintings, music, waterfalls, a women's hair, the design of a home, self-sacrifice, a gentle disposition (1 Peter 3:3-4), etc.  How can all these things have the same property?  If they do, what kind of property would it be?  The trend toward entirely reducing the reality of beauty to a subjective experience is partly motivated by the fact that naturalism doesn't have the ontological resources to account for objective beauty.  In fact, the existence of objective beauty is a reason itself to find naturalism's account of what exists unsatisfactory.