One
way to cope with the provocations of novel art is to rest firm and
maintain solid standards. The standards are set by the critic's long-practiced
taste and by his conviction that only those innovations will be significant
which promote the established direction of advanced art. All else
is irrelevant. Judged for "quality" and for an "advancedness" measurable
by given criteria, each work is then graded on a comparative scale.
A second way is more yielding. The critic interested in a novel manifestation
holds his criteria and taste in reserve. Since they were formed upon
yesterday's art, he does not assume that they are ready-made for today.
While he seeks to comprehend the objectives behind the new art produced,
nothing is a priori excluded or judged irrelevant. Since he is not
passing out grades, he suspends judgment until the work's intention
has come into focus and his response to it is - in the literal sense
of the word sym-pathetic; not necessarily to approve, but to
feel along with it as with a thing that is like no other.
I am aware that this second mode tends to be expatiating and slow. It
offers neither certitude nor precise quality ratings. But I believe that
both ways the will to empathize and the will to appraise
have their use. There must be an ideal combination of them, and perhaps
most criticsstrive to achieve it. But that achievement lies beyond individual
sensibility; the capacity to experience all works in accord with their
inward objectives and at the same time against external standards belongs
rather to the collective judgment of a generation, a judgment within
which many kinds of critical insights have been absorbed. Since mine
is the second mode, I find myself constantly in opposition to what is
called formalism; not because I doubt the necessity of formal analysis,
or the positive value of work done by serious formalist critics. But
because I mistrust their certainties, their apparatus of quantification,
their self-righteous indifference to that part of artistic utterance
which their tools do not measure. I dislike above all their interdictory
stance the attitude that tells an artist what he ought not to
do, and the spectator what he ought not to see. |