Expertise

Blog 9

The section of Callanan’s article that spoke the most to me in terms of my own education occurs in the second paragraph of page six. She is discussing the classroom dynamic between students in the humanities and hard sciences – and their self-segregation along those disciplinary boundaries. What struck me was the comment that “students and scholars create identifications with home disciplines much like citizens create allegiances with nation-states” (6). The reason that it resonated is because it made me realize the extent to which I hide behind content-based knowledge in the form of one of the disciplines I study: Art History.

When trying to explain an idea, and really in general – I talk about art a lot. And to qualify that, I do find it simpler to use a concrete example than purely abstract thought.

However I realize that my knowledge of art is only becoming more specialized, more expert if you will. And that now when I use it – it is within the framework of Art Historical discourse, i.e. the way I was taught. While upper-year courses expect other considerations (such as sociology, religion, anthropology) to be applied to art, initially Art History is taught in a very linear manner, with a specific European canon (Coliseum, Chartres, Mona Lisa, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon). The assumption is that it is necessary to know these works to have any grasp of Art History. Which is problematic for several reasons, basically that the canon is not only biased in hurtful ways (i.e. Eurocentric, etc.) but also to a certain extent arbitrary. I would contrast this with a course such as RLG 200 Phenomenon of Religion, which does not aim to instill a canon of theory of religion – but covers major thought with case studies. It encourages the reflexivity that Callanan lauds from the outset of the student’s undergraduate career.

Although – it would be wrong not to note that the discipline of Art History is considerable more established than Religion, which would clearly be a factor in how adaptable any discipline would be in incorporating new theory.

Back to my original point: what I noticed was the extent to which I use the discipline of Art History as a form of self-identification. An example, you all would be more than familiar with would be my blog. As in “because I study Art History….” The reason I started talking about art in the first place, was because after the mid-term feedback – I tried to incorporate material not as closely related to the text (as per suggestion) and the only thing that I felt comfortable talking about was art.

Why is that the case? Well, I think that has to do with what is valued not only in the institution but society in general – you can’t talk about it unless you are an expert. Unless you know the facts. The history. The framework, theory and so forth. I think that it is easy to talk about what we are expert in – especially at the university because our knowledge becomes so specialized. Which may be a cynical comment, but I think that when we want to make a point in an interdisciplinary context it becomes difficult, if not impossible for others to argue if they are not “as expert”.

I guess that my point is that Callanan’s article did encourage a certain amount of reflexivity in me because it illuminated how inflexible I am in the way I think and argue.

Still "talking" about art...where I stand on contextualism

The only way I can explain where I stand on contextualism is to use examples from what I study, which means art. I think that I am justified in using a specific work because in art historical discourse, art is read as text. That is unless one is only analyzing it from a formal perspective (light, colour, perspective, line, etc.), which is actually not common practice anymore. This is because art does not exist, nor is it created in a vacuum.

The example I am going to work with is a miniature mosaic (see illustration) that is located in the Louvre. It was donated to the museum in the late 19th century by an aristocrat who procured it in Italy. Those are the facts about it. I am currently writing a term paper for another course on this work. I have learned that all of the other information attached to it is the product of hypothesis and guesswork. What is that information? Well, its place of production has been labeled as Constantinople (Istanbul) during the late Byzantine period, around the early 14th century. The figure depicted is generally agreed upon to be St. George (although through other labeled art and textual sources it is known that George was not the only saint during this period to be illustrated slaying a dragon), but there is no definitive indication on the mosaic.

Okay, so if I look at Skinner’s three assumptions: writing as extension of speech, contexts are readily discernable, authorial intention is usually unproblematic to locate (139). The first doesn’t apply to the visual arts, but the second two will never be possible realistically. It won’t be known who made it, who it was made for or why? Does that mean it is unreadable? Likewise, with Pocock’s assertion that “most interesting acts of translation in interpretive traditions are anachronistic” (140). If that were the case, then wouldn’t that be imposing my own bias onto the work? Wouldn’t my interpretation be informed by later images influenced or not by the original? BUT if I attempt the opposite does that put a premium on authorial intent? I think that even if the work is readable without that information, in the study of a history it does violence on the originator of the piece not to attempt to understand the original context. Particularly when dealing with traditions that have not been dominant in the university.

Such as the Byzantine Empire.

BUT that does not address the issue of Nietzsche’s umbrella. In other words, artworks don’t exist for the historian alone. And I think that is where the meat of the issue of contextualism comes in.

Is the mosaic not readable if you don’t know anything about the alleged place/time of its creation? St. George? Or even horses, dragons, knights? The historian would claim that unlike Derrida (142) the work isn’t “fully” readable without a history, BUT with so much guesswork involved that is a big assumption. Also, that would imply that the historical context is essential, that without text the mosaic isn’t understandable. And considering that the current text associated with it is less than two centuries old – what would that mean for the viewers before it entered the Louvre? Does that not limit the work to a hypothesized origin with no later value? Unfortunately my paper and most of art history focuses on the place/time of creation. This would make it hard to incorporate the criticisms of contextualism.

Moral Emotions and The Watchtower

I don’t have focused research area yet, but I was intrigued by the prospect of applying an analysis of emotion to something that I am interested in studying. Specifically, I am going to talk about two areas of Christianity that I find fascinating (other examples that I use will also are from that tradition, I apologize if that is problematic in understanding my blog): eschatology and evangelical movements.

In this blog I will be talking about emotion and the art in the Watchtower tracts of the Jehovah’s Witnesses.

I am going to be working on the assumption that everyone has seem at least one copy of the Watchtower, and likely has come into contact with a member of that church “witnessing”. I am also not going to question the idea that conversion involves emotion. I do not think that it is a purely intellectual act, or spiritual for that matter.

The issue here is that the tracts are mass produced on an international level; there are not targeted publications for different groups within society. I have gotten the same literature in upper middle-class Oakville as I have in my socio-culturally mixed neighbourhood in downtown Toronto. This is unlike political propaganda, which is a close cousin. Potential converts, then are from different economic, educational, ethnic and religious backgrounds and are given the same material. But they cannot all respond to it in the same way. In other words, I think that neither an exclusively universalist nor relativist approach would work.
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The Watchtower tracts are also reliant on a heavily moralizing message. But the audience could arguably have less common ground. Which leads me to the idea that the form that the art takes in the Watchtower needs to be familiar (and therefore readable) and I think also borrows from the authority of those sources to provoke an emotional response in potential converts. I am not, however, implying anything insidious. What I do mean is that it uses mainstream advertising because it is understandable. And the kind of images used in journalism because it has authority both in terms of ‘fact’ and reinforcing moral norms. This is in spite of the fact that the Jehovah’s Witnesses are counter-cultural in orientation.

For example, on the online version of the Watchtower in a section on “The End of Poverty” there are images akin to those used by NGO’s to solicit monetary support. I think that understanding a potential convert’s emotional response to the images would be as part of the “society’s most deeply held values” (16), and as a moral response and therefore a moral emotion (14). The “deeply held value” in this case, I think, is expressed in the mainstream media as the First World responsibility in terms of aiding developing nations. Whether the emotion provoked is guilt, empathy or something else, again I think is dependent upon the situatedness of the individual. It is however a moral emotion because it is a reaction to what has been predetermined to be a moral issue.

Ok, I hope that made sense.

(In Art History there is a concept called Reception Theory; which in a nutshell means that an artwork is studied from the perspective of an observer and not the artist/patron. I first came across it when studying entrance decoration on Romanesque (Medieval) churches. A number of these had relief sculpture depicting the Last Judgement. Needless to say, this is a heavily moralizing narrative, the ultimate judgment of the individual. And its position high on the entrance to the church/cathedral with a seated Christ would have, at least in part, an emotional impact on those entering (regardless of whether or not they were clergy or laity, aristocrat or not). The emotional analysis would be simpler then in the sense that there was more common ground for the intended public that is in terms of shared morality, artistic idiom, theodicy, etc. But the idea of intended audience is what interests me. And in terms of emotion, I think that the Last Judgement motif would provoke different responses depending on the individual’s perception of their own moral standing. Which would mean that their emotional response would be a moral judgment (14).)