Imagine you and a friend are strolling through an art exhibit and a striking painting catches your eye. The vibrant red appears to you as a symbol of love, but your friend is convinced it's a symbol of war. And where you see stars in a romantic sky, your friend interprets global warming-inducing pollutants. To settle the debate, you turn to the internet, where you read that the painting is a replica of the artist's first-grade art project: Red was her favorite color and the silver dots are fairies.
Zamislite da sa prijateljem šetate kroz umetničku izložbu i zapadne vam za oko upečatljiva slika. Živahna crvena vas podseća na simbol ljubavi, međutim, vaš prijatelj je ubeđen da se radi o simbolu rata. A tamo gde vi vidite zvezde na romantičnom nebu, vaš prijatelj to tumači kao zagađivače koji uzrokuju globalno zagrevanje. Kako biste razrešili debatu, okrećete se internetu gde čitate kako je slika replika umetničinog likovnog rada iz prvog razreda: crvena joj je bila omiljena boja, a srebrne tačkice su vile.
You now know the exact intentions that led to the creation of this work. Are you wrong to have enjoyed it as something the artist didn’t intend? Do you enjoy it less now that you know the truth? Just how much should the artist's intention affect your interpretation of the painting? It's a question that's been tossed around by philosophers and art critics for decades, with no consensus in sight.
Sada znate tačne namere koje su dovele do nastanka ovog dela. Da li je pogrešno što vam se sviđa iz razloga na koje umetnik nije ciljao? Da li u njemu uživate manje sada kada znate istinu? Tačno koliko bi umetnikove namere trebalo da utiču na vaše tumačenje slike? To je pitanje kojim su se bavili filozofi i kritičari umetnosti decenijama bez izgleda da dođu do konsenzusa.
In the mid-20th century, literary critic W.K. Wimsatt and philosopher Monroe Beardsley argued that artistic intention was irrelevant. They called this the Intentional Fallacy: the belief that valuing an artist's intentions was misguided. Their argument was twofold: First, the artists we study are no longer living, never recorded their intentions, or are simply unavailable to answer questions about their work. Second, even if there were a bounty of relevant information, Wimsatt and Beardsley believed it would distract us from the qualities of the work itself. They compared art to a dessert: When you taste a pudding, the chef's intentions don't affect whether you enjoy its flavor or texture. All that matters, they said, is that the pudding "works."
Sredinom XX veka, književni kritičar V. K. Vimzat i filozof Monro Birdsli su tvrdili da je namera umetnika nevažna. Nazvali su to intencionalnom pogreškom: verovanje da uvažavanje umetnikovih namera vodi u zabludu. Njihov argument je bio dvostruk. Prvo, umetnici koje izučavamo više nisu živi, nikad nisu zabeležili svoje namere ili su prosto nedostupni da odgovore na pitanja o njihovim delima. Drugo, čak i da postoji izobilje relevantnih informacija, Vimzat i Birdsli su verovali da bi nas to odvratilo od kvaliteta samog dela. Uporedili su umetnost sa desertom: kada okusite puding, namere kuvara ne utiču na to da li ćete da uživate u ukusu i teksturi deserta. Sve što je važno, kažu, je da puding „deluje“.
Of course, what "works" for one person might not "work" for another. And since different interpretations appeal to different people, the silver dots in our painting could be reasonably interpreted as fairies, stars, or pollutants. By Wimsatt and Beardsley's logic, the artist's interpretation of her own work would just be one among many equally acceptable possibilities.
Naravno, ono što „deluje“ na jednu osobu možda neće da „deluje“ na drugu. A kako se različita tumačenja sviđaju različitim ljudima, srebrne tačkice na našoj slici mogu s pravom da se tumače kao vile, zvezde ili zagađivači. Prema logici Vimzata i Birdslija, umetnikovo tumačenje njegovog dela bi bila tek jedna od mnogih jednako prihvatljivih mogućnosti.
If you find this problematic, you might be more in line with Steven Knapp and Walter Benn Michaels, two literary theorists who rejected the Intentional Fallacy. They argued that an artist's intended meaning was not just one possible interpretation, but the only possible interpretation. For example, suppose you're walking along a beach and come across a series of marks in the sand that spell out a verse of poetry. Knapp and Michaels believed the poem would lose all meaning if you discovered these marks were not the work of a human being, but an odd coincidence produced by the waves. They believed an intentional creator is what makes the poem subject to understanding at all.
Ukoliko vam je ovo problematično, možda ste više saglasni sa Stivenom Napom i Volterom Benom Majklsom, dvojicom književnih teoretičara koji su odbacili intencionalnu pogrešku. Tvrdili su da nameravano značenje umetnika nije tek jedno od mogućih tumačenja, već da se radi o jedinom mogućem tumačenju. Na primer, pretpostavite da šetate plažom i naiđete na niz tragova u pesku koji ispisuju pesničku strofu. Nap i Majkls su verovali da bi pesma u potpunosti izgubila značenje, ukoliko biste otkrili da tragovi nisu delo ljudskog bića, već da se radi o čudnoj slučajnosti koju su proizveli talasi. Verovali su da su namere stvaraoca ono zbog čega je pesma uopšte i razumljiva.
Other thinkers advocate for a middle ground, suggesting that intention is just one piece in a larger puzzle. Contemporary philosopher Noel Carroll took this stance, arguing that an artist's intentions are relevant to their audience the same way a speaker's intentions are relevant to the person they’re engaging in conversation. To understand how intentions function in conversation, Carroll said to imagine someone holding a cigarette and asking for a match. You respond by handing them a lighter, gathering that their motivation is to light their cigarette. The words they used to ask the question are important, but the intentions behind the question dictate your understanding and ultimately, your response.
Drugi mislioci se zalažu za kompromis, predlažući da je namera tek jedan delić u većoj slagalici. Savremeni filozof Noel Kerol zastupa ovaj stav, tvrdeći da su umetnikove namere bitne za njegovu publiku, kao što su i namere govornika bitne za osobu koja je uključena u razgovor. Kako bismo razumeli kako namere funkcionišu u razgovoru, Kerol je rekao da zamislimo nekoga ko drži cigaretu i traži šibicu. Odgovarate tako što mu dodajete upaljač, razumevajući da je njegova namera da zapali cigaretu. Reči koje su korišćene da se postavi pitanje su važne, ali namera iza pitanja diktira vaše razumevanje i, naposletku, vaš odgovor.
So which end of this spectrum do you lean towards? Do you, like Wimsatt and Beardsley, believe that when it comes to art, the proof should be in the pudding? Or do you think that an artist's plans and motivations for their work affect its meaning? Artistic interpretation is a complex web that will probably never offer a definitive answer.
Dakle, kojem kraju spektra vi naginjete? Da li i vi, poput Vimzata i Birdslija verujete da kada se radi o umetnosti dokaz bi trebalo da je u pudingu? Ili smatrate da planovi i motivacije umetnika za njihova dela utiču na značenje tog dela? Tumačenje umetnosti je složena mreža koja verovatno nikad neće ponuditi definitivan odgovor.