Where do you live. Derek? Let’s watch a film together sometime. Funnily enough, L’Avventura was probably the first film I really loved as a work of art. I wanted to feel that with Godard (my friends all seemed to), but couldn’t.
I haven’t seen enough Godard to compare them, but for me it’s really all about Tarkovsky, Antonioni, and more recently, Kiarostami. I’m outside of Toronto, if you’re ever in town (maybe for TIFF?) let me know.
"L'Avventura" is a film I keep coming back to, trying to figure it out. Maybe one day I'll succeed. Antonioni was certainly good at creating mysteries on screen, judging by the other of his films I've seen ("The Red Desert," "L'Eclisse," "Blow-Up").
Great piece. In terms of the critic’s proper role (with this kind of art especially), I agree with Mencken’s assertion that the good critic should be like a catalyzer, the substance that makes other substances react. This is difficult because there’s only so much of direct experience you communicate critically that is meaningful (according to Northrop Frye, it’s none at all), so some level of interpretation is involved. But too much and too unmalleable an interpretation and the relationship between the art and the viewer becomes stifled.
After reading this piece, I can’t help but wonder if some art is meant to be more catalyzing than others, that is more in need of fusion to a different consciousness to be complete as opposed to being a complete object in itself. Tarkovsky’s Nostalgia relies much more on the consciousness of a viewer than (insert anything popular on Netflix here ) where the backstory of each character is unambiguously laid out and so the mood is thoroughly rationalized by the narrative’s events.
Thanks, Adam. I'm not familiar with Mencken but I like the idea--is there an article or book I should check out? Good point as well that some art is more conducive to this kind of writing. I'd say art that is impressionistic is better for it than realist art, and in general, visual art rather than literature. I didn't really think of it when writing the piece, but the fact that my examples are movies rather than novels is telling.
And yeah, I love Nostalgia, I probably could have written about the carrying of the candle across the pool instead of Blow-Up and it would have worked just as well!
The article of his I’m referencing is called “Criticism of Criticism of Criticism.” Mencken is entertaining but often more of a shit slinger than a serious intellectual. I’ve been slowly making my way through Northrop Frye’s “Anatomy of Criticism” which is a highly intellectual framework for criticism but is more about refining a totalizing theory of literature as a whole than approaching individual texts.
I think the midcentury made such a science out of literary criticism that people just don’t realize they *can* just let literature do its work on them without fully comprehending it. I think partially New Criticism can be blamed for that (the movement Tarkovsky was most brushing up against when claiming “I make stories, not symbols”) but both classic and modern literature lend themselves well to this approach. Virginia Woolf is highly impressionistic is out to move you, not give you a puzzle. Krasznahorkai’s The Melancholy of Resistance is also meant to be experienced this way. I’m going to say Jon Fosse intends this approach for his readers as well given his obsession with “the silent language.” Faulkner, debatable.
Thanks, I'll look that article up. I'm actually reading Fosse right now, I think he fits well into this approach, you really just have to get into the text and let it do its work on you (great way to put it!).
Really enjoyed this one. It's a good reminder that you've got to open yourself up to a book or movie or an artwork on its own terms, which, to me, means really making an honest effort in attempting to understand it and the artist's intentions, before critiquing. Once that work is done, it's seems more likely that you can suss out all the different interpretations, or the most likely, that will arise from the work... and then decide whether or not it has hit the mark. All requires considerable effort, but all very awesome in the context of experience of the art being a thing in and of itself. I particularly liked this part
"The film that I watch is not the film that you watch because I am not you and you are not me. In my previous understanding, the art object was a sort of safe that needed to be unlocked through a series of interpretative moves, allowing its secrets to be revealed. In this new understanding, the safe is more like one of those little libraries you see on people’s lawns; it’s always open and you can find treasures inside, but you can and should also put your own things inside to help create the library. If you don’t, something is missing. The art object is incomplete without the reader or the viewer."
I like to think that the art object is actually complete without the reader or the viewer. The reader and viewer are secondary to the art object and their experience of it is its own, new thing... or something. I would need a second cup of coffee before I dig deeper, though.
Thanks, Spencer, I take your point about a work of art being complete without the recipient—it’s certainly “something”—but I think of it in the same way as the tree falling in the forest. The tree makes waves, but not sound; the artwork is an object, but is it art if no one sees it, reads it, etc.? I don’t know. Perhaps these are just semantic differences. There’s also the fact that the writer, say, is also reading their work, so there’s always a recipient, even if it’s the same as the creator. As should be clear from my piece, I’m in the process of thinking through all of this…
Since the subject is film, I found a relevant quote from Roger Ebert's autobiography, "Life Itself." One of the first films he reviewed professionally was Bergman's "Persona," a film that has perplexed many viewers. What Ebert learned from the experience was this: “I was discovering a method that would work with impenetrable films: Focus on what you saw and how it affected you. Don’t fake it. [...] The critic has to set aside theory and ideology, theology and politics, and open himself to – well, the immediate experience.”
I guess this explain why I've always liked Ebert's reviews. We almost always agree, except for one time, "The Limits of Control," which he gave half a star! I'll let that one pass, though.
I liked and commented on this essay when it first appeared on 3 Quarks Daily. Reading it again makes me like it even more. The subjective experience in criticism is very often ignored, or downgraded, or alas, replaced with attempts to squeeze works of art into certain pre-arranged theoretical schemas that have nothing to do with the aesthetic experience or even the objective details, but more with the critic's desire to label a work and store it neatly into a category or subcategory. Unfortunately, one sees a lot of this kind of wrangling (in the cattle round-up sense) in Substack literary circles--Is this autofiction? Is this satire? Is this the next Great American Novel? Literary criticism as post-mortem: What did this book die of?
I have the luxury to choose what I write about, and it's mostly works that have moved me in one way or another. Beyond writing objectively about a work, I write about the experience of seeing that work and its effect on me. It doesn't matter if others see the same work differently. For the short time it takes to read my posts, a reader can slip into my eyes and gaze at a work of art through their prism--I hope.
Well said, Brooks, this is exactly one of the reasons I like your writing--because you let us see things as you do, and then that creates new possibilities for us. I was actually at an art gallery the other day and saw a print that, had I not read your writing, I probably would have ignored, but after reading your essay on László Moholy-Nagy, I was interested in it as I saw some similarities in the geometric designs and 3D effects. This is the print: https://smokestack.ca/product/lewis-mallard-up-close-and-personal/
You make some good points about interpretation and how it tends to take a person away from art rather than towards it. Tarkovsky BTW was explicitly opposed to analyzing his work in terms of symbolism - it was wrong to think that Image A = Meaning B. It was too rationalistic and negated the point of the artistic experience.
That said: I saw "Blow-Up" years ago and admit I was puzzled by that tennis game at the end. You can look at it thematically - looking for the ball somehow relates to looking for the corpse earlier in the film - but that seems kind of a clumsy interpretation.
Thanks, Scott, I read a bit about Tarkovsky's understanding of his own art in "Sculpting in Time," where he talks about this. It's interesting because on one hand, I see what he's saying, but on the other, he repeats certain things so often, like dripping water and puddles, that we feel it must mean something. But maybe it just means what it means. I would also say that it's possible for a symbol to emerge regardless of the creator's intention. But yes, going into a Tarkovsky movie with this mindset, to try to uncover the symbols, would certainly be a mistake and you'd be closing yourself off to the overall experience of the film.
As for "Blow-Up," I think you have a point in connecting looking for the corpse to the tennis scene. Was there really a corpse? I can't remember, and I don't think the movie tells us. So perhaps this is showing us the other side of putting ourselves into interpretation, we can add things that aren't there, and that could led us astray, just as it could allow us to see new things, open up new possibilities, as in the tennis scene. Perhaps the confusion is part of the point.
Where do you live. Derek? Let’s watch a film together sometime. Funnily enough, L’Avventura was probably the first film I really loved as a work of art. I wanted to feel that with Godard (my friends all seemed to), but couldn’t.
I haven’t seen enough Godard to compare them, but for me it’s really all about Tarkovsky, Antonioni, and more recently, Kiarostami. I’m outside of Toronto, if you’re ever in town (maybe for TIFF?) let me know.
"L'Avventura" is a film I keep coming back to, trying to figure it out. Maybe one day I'll succeed. Antonioni was certainly good at creating mysteries on screen, judging by the other of his films I've seen ("The Red Desert," "L'Eclisse," "Blow-Up").
Great piece. In terms of the critic’s proper role (with this kind of art especially), I agree with Mencken’s assertion that the good critic should be like a catalyzer, the substance that makes other substances react. This is difficult because there’s only so much of direct experience you communicate critically that is meaningful (according to Northrop Frye, it’s none at all), so some level of interpretation is involved. But too much and too unmalleable an interpretation and the relationship between the art and the viewer becomes stifled.
After reading this piece, I can’t help but wonder if some art is meant to be more catalyzing than others, that is more in need of fusion to a different consciousness to be complete as opposed to being a complete object in itself. Tarkovsky’s Nostalgia relies much more on the consciousness of a viewer than (insert anything popular on Netflix here ) where the backstory of each character is unambiguously laid out and so the mood is thoroughly rationalized by the narrative’s events.
Thanks, Adam. I'm not familiar with Mencken but I like the idea--is there an article or book I should check out? Good point as well that some art is more conducive to this kind of writing. I'd say art that is impressionistic is better for it than realist art, and in general, visual art rather than literature. I didn't really think of it when writing the piece, but the fact that my examples are movies rather than novels is telling.
And yeah, I love Nostalgia, I probably could have written about the carrying of the candle across the pool instead of Blow-Up and it would have worked just as well!
The article of his I’m referencing is called “Criticism of Criticism of Criticism.” Mencken is entertaining but often more of a shit slinger than a serious intellectual. I’ve been slowly making my way through Northrop Frye’s “Anatomy of Criticism” which is a highly intellectual framework for criticism but is more about refining a totalizing theory of literature as a whole than approaching individual texts.
I think the midcentury made such a science out of literary criticism that people just don’t realize they *can* just let literature do its work on them without fully comprehending it. I think partially New Criticism can be blamed for that (the movement Tarkovsky was most brushing up against when claiming “I make stories, not symbols”) but both classic and modern literature lend themselves well to this approach. Virginia Woolf is highly impressionistic is out to move you, not give you a puzzle. Krasznahorkai’s The Melancholy of Resistance is also meant to be experienced this way. I’m going to say Jon Fosse intends this approach for his readers as well given his obsession with “the silent language.” Faulkner, debatable.
Thanks, I'll look that article up. I'm actually reading Fosse right now, I think he fits well into this approach, you really just have to get into the text and let it do its work on you (great way to put it!).
Really enjoyed this one. It's a good reminder that you've got to open yourself up to a book or movie or an artwork on its own terms, which, to me, means really making an honest effort in attempting to understand it and the artist's intentions, before critiquing. Once that work is done, it's seems more likely that you can suss out all the different interpretations, or the most likely, that will arise from the work... and then decide whether or not it has hit the mark. All requires considerable effort, but all very awesome in the context of experience of the art being a thing in and of itself. I particularly liked this part
"The film that I watch is not the film that you watch because I am not you and you are not me. In my previous understanding, the art object was a sort of safe that needed to be unlocked through a series of interpretative moves, allowing its secrets to be revealed. In this new understanding, the safe is more like one of those little libraries you see on people’s lawns; it’s always open and you can find treasures inside, but you can and should also put your own things inside to help create the library. If you don’t, something is missing. The art object is incomplete without the reader or the viewer."
I like to think that the art object is actually complete without the reader or the viewer. The reader and viewer are secondary to the art object and their experience of it is its own, new thing... or something. I would need a second cup of coffee before I dig deeper, though.
Thanks, Spencer, I take your point about a work of art being complete without the recipient—it’s certainly “something”—but I think of it in the same way as the tree falling in the forest. The tree makes waves, but not sound; the artwork is an object, but is it art if no one sees it, reads it, etc.? I don’t know. Perhaps these are just semantic differences. There’s also the fact that the writer, say, is also reading their work, so there’s always a recipient, even if it’s the same as the creator. As should be clear from my piece, I’m in the process of thinking through all of this…
Yeah, for sure. Lots to think about. I appreciate your new position, though. Looking forward to seeing where it takes you!
Since the subject is film, I found a relevant quote from Roger Ebert's autobiography, "Life Itself." One of the first films he reviewed professionally was Bergman's "Persona," a film that has perplexed many viewers. What Ebert learned from the experience was this: “I was discovering a method that would work with impenetrable films: Focus on what you saw and how it affected you. Don’t fake it. [...] The critic has to set aside theory and ideology, theology and politics, and open himself to – well, the immediate experience.”
I guess this explain why I've always liked Ebert's reviews. We almost always agree, except for one time, "The Limits of Control," which he gave half a star! I'll let that one pass, though.
I liked and commented on this essay when it first appeared on 3 Quarks Daily. Reading it again makes me like it even more. The subjective experience in criticism is very often ignored, or downgraded, or alas, replaced with attempts to squeeze works of art into certain pre-arranged theoretical schemas that have nothing to do with the aesthetic experience or even the objective details, but more with the critic's desire to label a work and store it neatly into a category or subcategory. Unfortunately, one sees a lot of this kind of wrangling (in the cattle round-up sense) in Substack literary circles--Is this autofiction? Is this satire? Is this the next Great American Novel? Literary criticism as post-mortem: What did this book die of?
I have the luxury to choose what I write about, and it's mostly works that have moved me in one way or another. Beyond writing objectively about a work, I write about the experience of seeing that work and its effect on me. It doesn't matter if others see the same work differently. For the short time it takes to read my posts, a reader can slip into my eyes and gaze at a work of art through their prism--I hope.
Well said, Brooks, this is exactly one of the reasons I like your writing--because you let us see things as you do, and then that creates new possibilities for us. I was actually at an art gallery the other day and saw a print that, had I not read your writing, I probably would have ignored, but after reading your essay on László Moholy-Nagy, I was interested in it as I saw some similarities in the geometric designs and 3D effects. This is the print: https://smokestack.ca/product/lewis-mallard-up-close-and-personal/
I enjoyed this piece once it arrived at the topic of Blow-Up.
I find that movie to contain several beats that have this sort of allegorical power, one of which I think about a lot.
Thanks. I'm intrigued--if you don't mind sharing, what are the other scenes you're thinking of?
You make some good points about interpretation and how it tends to take a person away from art rather than towards it. Tarkovsky BTW was explicitly opposed to analyzing his work in terms of symbolism - it was wrong to think that Image A = Meaning B. It was too rationalistic and negated the point of the artistic experience.
That said: I saw "Blow-Up" years ago and admit I was puzzled by that tennis game at the end. You can look at it thematically - looking for the ball somehow relates to looking for the corpse earlier in the film - but that seems kind of a clumsy interpretation.
Thanks, Scott, I read a bit about Tarkovsky's understanding of his own art in "Sculpting in Time," where he talks about this. It's interesting because on one hand, I see what he's saying, but on the other, he repeats certain things so often, like dripping water and puddles, that we feel it must mean something. But maybe it just means what it means. I would also say that it's possible for a symbol to emerge regardless of the creator's intention. But yes, going into a Tarkovsky movie with this mindset, to try to uncover the symbols, would certainly be a mistake and you'd be closing yourself off to the overall experience of the film.
As for "Blow-Up," I think you have a point in connecting looking for the corpse to the tennis scene. Was there really a corpse? I can't remember, and I don't think the movie tells us. So perhaps this is showing us the other side of putting ourselves into interpretation, we can add things that aren't there, and that could led us astray, just as it could allow us to see new things, open up new possibilities, as in the tennis scene. Perhaps the confusion is part of the point.