demonstratedor. as Kant said. presented?

Ina short,
unfinishedtextfromlate 1949. Newmanwrotethathe
was notconcerned witha manipulationof space orof
imageInhis paintings. butwitha sensationof time. He
added that by this he did not mean the kind of time
ladenwith nostalgia. or drama. or referencesandhis-
tory-the usual subjects of painting. After this qual-
andNow II. In 1949he painted Be I (of which hedid a
secondversionin1970).andin1961-64hepaintedBe
II.
Howis one to understand thesublime-let us think
of it as the focus of a sublime experience-as some-
thing"hereandnow"? Onthecontrary. isn'titessential
to this feeling to allude to something that cannot be
36
InDecember. 1948. Barnett (Baruch) Newman wrote
anessayentitled'The SublimeisNow." In1950-51, he
paintedacanvasthathecalled Vir Heroicus Sublimus;
intheearlyand mid '60s, hecast three bronzesculp-
tures entitledHere I (For Marcia). Here II, andHere / 1 / ;
another~ainting, from1962. was called Not There-
Here; tvvo others.fromt965and1967.weretitled Now I
CasparDavid Friedrich. Abend (Evening). 1824. oil Onboard. ca. Tl'4 x lC W ."
Collection of the Mannheim Kunstl>alle.
liM E A ND THE
T-GAR E
JEAN-FRANCOIS LYOTARD
themarkof thequestion isthe"now,"now inthesense
thatnothing might happen.
This contradictory feeling-pleasure and pain, joy
andanxiety,exaltationanddepression-was baptized
or rechristenedbetweenthe 17thand 18thcenturies in
Europe by the name of the "sublime." It is over this
wordthatthedestinyof classical poetics waswagered
andlost;itisinthisnamethatestheticsmadeitscritical
prerogatives matter to art, and that romanticism-in
other words modernity-triumphed. It remainsfor the
art historian to explain howthe word sublime reap-
pearedinthe language of BarnettNewman,a J ewish
painterfromNewYork, during the'40s. Theword sub-
lime iscommoncurrencytodayincolloquial Frenchto
suggestsurpriseandadmiration,somewhatIikeAmer-
ica's "great," buttheideathatitdenotesbelongs tothe
most rigorous kind of reflecting onarf for at leastthe
pasttwocenturies, Newmandid notignoretheesthetic
and philosophical stakes involved with theword. He
read Edmund Burke's Philosophical Enquiry into the
Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful,
(1757),and criticized Burke'soverly "surrealistic" de-
scription of the sublime oeuvre. Conversely, Newman
judged SurreaIismtobeoverlyreiiantonapreromantic
or romantic way of dealing with the indeterminate.
Thus,whenhesought sublimity inthe"hereand now"
hebrokewiththeeloquenceof romanticartbutnotwith
its fundamental task of bearing pictorial or otherwise
expressive witness to the inexpressible. The inex-
pressibledoes notresideinan"overthere," inanother
worldor anothertime, but inthis: that "it happens." In
thedeterminationof pictorial artiheindeterminate,the
"it's happening,,.iscolor-the painting. Thecolor-the
painting-as occurrence or event is not expressible,
and it is tothis that it must bear witness.
Perhapsthe locus of thewhole difference between
romanticismandthe"modern" avant-gardeisto trans-
late "The Sublime is Now" as "Now the Sublime is
This"-not elsewhere, not up there or over there. not
earlieror later, notonceupona time, but here,now."it
happens"-and it's this painting. Now,andhere,there
isthis paintingwheretheremighthavebeennothingat
all, and that's what IS sublime. Letting go and dis-
armingall grasping intelligence, recognizing thatthis
occurrenceof pamtingwas notnecessaryandISbare-
ly visible, an openness to the Is i t happening? the
protectionof theoccurrence "before" defending it, by
illustrationor commentary,the guarding "before" put-
ting up one's guard, and looking-looking under the
aegis 01now-these aretherigors of theavant-garde.
Inliteraryartthis pleaonbehalfoftheIsit happening?
foundoneof its mostrigorous realizations inGertrude
only if something remains to be determined, some-
thing that hasn'tbeendetermined before. Onestnves
to determine "something" by setting up a system, a
theory, a program. or a project-and indeed one has
to, all theWhileanticipating the"sornethinp."Onecan
also inquireaboutthat which "remains" andallowthe
indeterminateto appear as a question mark.
All Intellectual disciplines and institutions take for
grantedthat not everythinghas been said. written. or
recorded. thatwords alreadyheardor pronouncedare
notthe last words "After" a sentence, "after" a color,
comes another sentence, another color, One doesn't
necessarily knowwhich, but it is possible to guess if
credence is given tothe rulesthatchainonesentence
to another, cue one color from another-rules pre-
served in precisely the institutions of the past and
luturethat I mentionabove. Theschool. theprogram,
the project-all proclaim that after such a sentence.
suchanother sentenceor at least such sort of a sen-
tenceismandatory,thatonekindof sentenceis permit-
ted, while another is forbidden. This holds true tor
painting as much as for any other activity involving
thought.Afteronepictorial work, anotheris necessary,
permitted, or forbidden. Afterone color, this other col-
or; after this characteristic, that one. There isn't an
enormous difference between an avant-garde man-
ifestoand a curriculumatthe Ecoledes BeauxArts, if
one considers themInlightofthls relationshiptotime;
bothposrtionthemselvesinrelationtoeventsthatwill,
theybelieve. leadtoaneventualgood. Bothalsoforget
thepossibility that nothing will happen. that words.
colors, forms, or sounds will be absent. that some
sentencewill bethelast.thatonedaythebreadwill not
arrive. This is the misery that the painter encounters
with plastic surface. or the musician with anacoustic
surface:itisthemiserythethinkersees inthedesertof
thought. It isn't Simplya matterof the emptycanvas or
the empty page, at the "beginning" of a work, but of
each instance of something being imminent. which
makesa question of everyquestion mark. every"and
nONwhat?" Wetendto assumethat nothingWill hap-
penWithoutthefeelingof anxiety, a termmuch elabo-
ratedonbymodernphilosophers of existenceandthe
unconscious.Thisgives anticipauon, ifwereallymean
anticipation, a predominantly negative value. In fact
suspensecanalso beaccompanied bypleasure-for
instance. pleasureintheunknown-and evenbyjoy-
thejoy. to paraphraseBaruchSpinoza. theintensifica-
tionof being, thatthe eventintroduces This probably
brings upcontradictoryfeelings. It isattheveryleasta
signofthequestionmarkitself Thequestioncanadapt
itself to any tone, as J acques Derrida would say But
37
ilication, his text stops short,
We are left with the question: what kind of time was
Newman concerned with, what "now" did he have in
mind? Thomas B, Hess, his Iriend and commentator,
lelt iustitreo in writing that Newman's time was the
Makom or the Hamakom of Hebraic tradition-the
there, the site, the place-the way the Torahrefersto
the unnamable divinity. I do not knowenough about
Makom to knowwhether this Indeed was Newman's
intention. Butthen again, who does knowenoughab-
outnow? Newmansurelycannothavebeenthinkingof
the"presentinstant," theonethattries sohardtoclaim
territorybetweenthefutureand thepast. butmanages
onlyto be devoured bythem, That"now" is oneof the
temporal "ecstasies" that have been analyzed from
Augustine's day all the way to Edmund Husserl.
according to a line of thought that has attempted to
composetimeoutof consciousness. Newman'snowis
astrangertoconsciousnessandcannotbecomposed
intermsof it. Rather.it is what dismantles conscious-
ness, what dismisses consciousness: it is what con-
sciousness cannot formulate. and even what con-
sciousnessforgets In order to compose itsell.
Whatwedo notmanagetothinkabout is something
happening, or, more simply, the happening, Not a
majoreventinthemediasense,notevena small event.
J ust an occurrence. This isn't a matter of sense or
reality bearing upon what happens-on what thrs
mightmean. Beforefinding out aboutthewhat and ItS
significance, beforethequid, we needthe"before" so
thatit "may happen'-quod. The happening always
"precedes"the questionof whathappens, It happens
comes"before' is it happening? is it ttiie? is it possi-
ble?,"Onlythen"cananypoint bedeterminedthrough
Inquiry:is this or thathappening, is itthis or something
else, is this or that possible? An event. an occur-
rence-what MartinHeidegger called emEreignis-Is
infinitely simple, But this simplicity can only be
graspedthroughneed;thatwhichwecall thoughtmust
bedisarmed, Thereare traditions and institutions for
philosophy, for painting, for politics, for literature:
thesevarious "disciplines' havedestinies inthe form
ofschools, programs, researchprojects, and"trends."
Thoughtseizes uponwhat is received, Itseeks to re-
flect and overcome It seeks to determine what has
alreadybeenthought.written, painted. or socialized in
order to determine whathasn't been. We know this
processwell-it is our dally bread, It is the bread of
war, the biscuit of soldiers But this agitation in the
mostnoble sense of the word (agitation IS the word
Kantgives for the cerebral activity thatencompasses
and exercises judgment), this agitation is possible
j
j
J
,
between hidden idioms and nonidiorns? And what is a
norudiorn? And what about this, very likely the final
blow to didactics: the tact that such a sublime dis-
course accommodates any number of stylistic defects
and formal imperfections? Plato's style, for example, IS
full of bombast and strained comparisons and excess.
Plato, inshort. is a mannerist or a baroque compared to
a Lysias, and so is Sophocles compared to an Ion. or
Pindar compared to a Bacchylides. Only the former
names Inthese painngs are sublime, whereas the latter
ones are merely perfect. Shortcomings in this metier
are apparently therefore trifling matters, if they are the
price to be paid for "true grandeur" Grandeur in
speech is true when it bears witness to the discrepancy
between thought and the real world. Is it Boileau's
translation that brings us to this analogy, or IS it the
inlluence of early Christianity on Lonqinus?
So, the kind of perfection that one might reasonably
expect within the domain of teehne fhelorike (some-
thing between the art and the technique of rhetoric)
isn't necessarily a desirable attribute for matters sub-
lime in leeling. Longinus went so lar as to propose
inversions 01"natural" syntax as examples 01sublime
enect As for Boileau, inthe prelace hewrote in 1674 for
Longinus' text, in addenda 01 1683 and 1701, and
elsewhere, he finalized the previous tentative break
with the classical institution of tecnne The sublime, he
demonstrated, cannot be taught. and didactics are
thus powerless inthis respect; the sublime is not linked
to rules that can be determined through poetics, the
sublime requires only that the speaker or listener have
conceptual range, taste, and the ability' to sense what
the whole world senses first." Boileau was therefore in
accord with Pere Bouhours when, in 1671, he declared
that beauty demands more than j ust a respect for rules.
that Itrequires a further ";8nesaISqUOI, " cal! Itaemos II
you will, or something "incomprehensible and inex-
plicable," a "gift from God," a fundamentally "hidden"
phenomenon that can be recognized only by its effects
on a selected individual. And in the polemiC that set
him against Pierre Daniel Huet, over the issue of
whether the Bible's fiat Lux, et Lux fuit (let there be light,
and there was light) is sublime, as Longinus thought it
was, Boileau referred to the opinion of the J ansenists of
Port Royal, in particular to Ie Maitre de Saci: the
J ansenists are masters when it comes to matters of
hidden significance, of silence tnat talks, of
feeling that transcends reason, and finally 01openness
to Is il happemng?
At stake in these poetic-theological debates is the
status 01works of art. Are they copies of some Ideal
model? Can contemplation of some of the more perfeci
examples yield rules of creation that determine their
success, persuasiveness, or oteasurabttity? Can
understanding in lact triumph through thrs kind of con-
templation? By concentrating on the sublime and inde-
terminacy while meditating on works of art, tecbne and
related institutions such as the academies and
schools, mentors and disciples, taste, and the enlight-
ened public of princes and courtiers, undergo a maj or
mutation. The purpose and even the destiny of artworks
is questioned. The dominance 01techne placed works
of art under multiple regulations-that of the studio
table, irresistible, and, most importantly, thought-
provoking. He even tried to locate sources for the
sublime in the ethos 01the orator, In his pathos, and in
the various procedures of discourse figures of speech,
choice of words, enunciation, composition. However.
when It comes to the sublime, maj or obstacles get in
the way of rhetorical and poetic regulations. There is,
for example, wrote Lonqinus, a sublimity of thought
sometimes recognizable in speech by Its extreme sim-
plicity 01shape. at the precise point where the high
character of the speaker creates an aura 01solemnity. It
sometimes takes the form of outright silence. While I
wou!d welcome and accept that Silence for a beat or
two, the reader will agree that it constitutes the greatest
indeterminacy of all. What can remain of rhetoric (or of
poetics) when the rhetorician InBoileau's translation
announces that to attain the sublime effect "there ISno
better figure of speech than the altogether hidden, that
which we do not even recognize as a figure of
speech"? How does one conceal speech; are there
self-erasing figures of speech? How do we oistinquish
38
fended by the French writer Nicolas Boileau-
Despeaux, classified in literary history as one of the
most dogged advocates of ancient classicism. In 1674
Boileau published his L'Art poetiaue, but he also pub-
lished Ou sublime, his translation or transcription from
the Peri hupsous (On the sublime). This is a treatise, or
rather an essay, attributed to a certain Lonqmus about
whose identity there has long been confusion, and
whose life we now estimate as having begun toward
the end of the first century of our era. The author was a
rhetorician. Basically, he taught those oratorical de-
vices with which a speaker, of whatever style, can
persuade or move an audience. The didactics of rhe-
toric were then still linked to the tradition of Aristotle,
Cicero, and Quintilian. They were, in other words, link-
ed to a republican institution wherein one had to know
how to speak belore assemblies and tribunals. One
might expect that Longinus' text would invoke the max-
ims and encomiums transmitted by this tradition But
this compact text is permeated by unsureness, as
though its subj ect-the sublime, indeterminacy-
Frederic Edwin Church, After rhe Rain Srorm, ;8805. 011on canvas, 29 x
391;2".Colleclion Of the Montclair Art Museum, Montclair. NJ .
sabotaged didactic strategies. I cannot analyze this
hovering any further here. Boileau himself and numer-
ous other commentators were aware of it, and con-
cluded that the sublime could only be attained through
a sublime style. Longinus certainly tried to define sub-
limity through discourse, writing that it was unforget-
Stein's How fa Write (1931). It's still the sublime in the
sense of Burke and Kant, and (yet) isn't their sublime
any more.
The sublime may well be the single artistic sensibil-
ity to characterize the Modem Paradoxically, it was
introduced to literary discussion and vigorously de-
howesthetics, the analysis of the amateur's feelings,
came to replace poetics and rhetoric, which were
didactic forms Intended specifically fortheartist. The
questionwas no longer: howdoes onemakeart? but:
what does it meanto experience art? Anyanalysis of
this last question brings us back to the subject of
indeterminacy.
Alexander BaumgartenbeganAeslhetica Acromati-
ca, thefirstesthetics, In 1750. Kant brieflysaid of tms
workthat it was based on anerror. Baumgartencon-
fused judgment, as it IS exercrsedand understood
when there is a governing consensus that classifies
phenomena categorically, and judgment that, exer-
cised intellectually or emotionally, has to do with an
indeterminaterelationshipamongthepropertiesof the
subject. Baumgarten'sesthetics depend upona con-
ceptually determined relationship to the work of art
Thesenseof beautyisforKantapleasurekindled bya
freeharmonybetweenthe functionof Images andthe
functionof concepts, whether thesubject ISa workof
art or nature. Esthetics of the sublime are still more
Boileau, "really isn't something that tenders Its own
proofs and demonstrations, but a marvelousnessthai
seizes, strikes, andinflicts sensation."Evenimperfec-
tions-aberrations 01taste, ugliness-playa role In
this shock appeal. Art would no longer Imitatenature
butwouldcreate a wholeother world, eine Zwischen-
weft (a betweenworld), as Paul Kleewould later say,
eine Nebenweft (a side world), one could say, where
monstrosityand malformationhave rights becauseof
sublime potential (Forgive this sirnptificatron.)
Onecanfind tracesof thesublime, foreshadowings
of this modern transformation, well before modern
times-in medieval esthetics, lor instance.likethoseof
thereligious order theVictonnes Precedentssuggest
howthoughtsonartwould no longer havemuch bear-
ing on the dispatcher of artworks, whom we would
leavetothesolitudeof genius, butontherecipients of
theseartworks.Itwouldhenceforthbecomenecessary
to analyze the ways in which audiences could be
affected, howthe recipient receives andexperiences
works of art, and howworks 01art are judged This is
39
April Gornik, Equator, 1983.oil on canvas. 74 x 116".
model, the schools and academies, shared taste
amonqthe aristocracy, a finiteness in art that had to do
with ill~ustratlngthe glory of a name, divine or human.
and attachmo to it the perfection of a cardinal virtue.
The idea of the sublime put all of this harmony Into
disarray.
Toamplify the Characteristics of this disarray under
DeniSDiderot's pen /echne becomes "the little techni-
que,"andtheartistisnolongerguided byaculturethat
madehimtheobject andmasterofamessageof glory.
Instead.he has become the genius, an Involuntary
receptacleof inspiration which comes to him from
some'}e ne sais quai" Public judgment no longer
reliesonthe traditional Criteriaof shared pleasures.
andind~vidualsunknowntoartists (the"people") read
books.wanderthroughexhibitiongalleries. crowd into
theatersandconcert halls, andare preyto unpredict-
ablefeelingsat shock, admiration. contempt. or indif-
ferenceThequestion is no longer to please a public
byb(lng~n.g'ItIntoa process of identitlcauonandglor-
ification, but to surprise II. "The sublime,' wrote
1
J
expressingfeelings: theyarethemselveschargedwith
passionateconnotation; theycanevokemattersof the
soul withouthaVingtoconsider Visibility; finally, Burke
remarkedthat "by words we have It in our power to
make such combinations as we cannot possibly do
otherwise." The arts, with whatever their materials.
pressed forward by the esthetics of the sublime ina
Questlor Intenseeffects, canandmustoverlookmime-
tic models thataremerelybeautiful, andmusttestltheir
limits throughsurpriSing, difficult, shocking combina-
tions.Shockis.par excellence, theevidenceof (some-
thing) happening, rather than nothing at all It ISsus-
pended privation.
Burke's analyses could easily be resumed anc
elaborated Ina Freudian-Lacaniao problematic (pre-
cisely what PierreKaufmanand 8aldine Saint-Girons
havedone). But I ambringing themup in a ditterent
spirit, the one the subject ot this article-the avant-
garde--demands. I have tried 1 0 suggest lhat at the
dawnof romanticismBurke's esthetic of the sublime,
and to a lesser degree Kant's, outlined a world'Of
possibilities for artistic expression throughwhich tile
avant-gardeswould laterwendtheir way Thereareno
direct Influences, no ernpmcally observable connec-
lions. Manet,Cezanne,BraQue,andPicassoprobably
did not read Kant or Burke. What I amsuggesting1 5
more a matter of irreversible deviations in the direc-
tional courseofart,deviations thathaveaffectedall'rlhe
sures, and he baptized it with the word "delight."
Herethenisabreakdownofthesublimesensation a
verybig, very powerlul object threatenstodeprive the
soul of any and all "happenings," stuns it (at lower
intensitres,thesoul ISat this porntseizedwith admira-
tion, veneration, respect). Thesoul is dumb, Immobil-
ized, asgoodas dead. Art, bydistancing thrsmenace,
procures a pleasure of relief, of delight. Thanksto art,
the soul is returned to the agitated zone betweenlife
anddeath, andthis agitationis Itshealthandits life.For
Burke, the sublime was not a matterof elevation (the
categorywithinwhichAristotledefined tragedy), buta
matterof intensnicanoo.
Anotherof Burke'sobservations meritsattentionbe-
cause it heralded the possibility of emancipating
works of art fromclassical mimetic laws. Inthe long
debateover therelative meritsof painting andpoelry,
Burke sided with poetry. Painting IStaken 1 0task for
imitatingmodels, andfor itsfigurative representations:
ifart'sobject is tocreateintensesensationsInthosefor
whomit is intended, imagistic figuration is a limiting
constrainton the possibilities lor emotiveexpression
However, in the language arts-and particularly in
poetry, which Burke did not consider a genre with
regulations butthefield forcountlessactive invesnqa-
tions 01 language---emotive powers are freefromthe
vensirnilitudes of figuration. "To representanangel in
a picture, you can only draw a beautiful young man
40
Durnannet,"Cenotaph inHonor Ofthe Explorers Wna Perishedin lhevoyage01
M. de LaPerouse: winner 01 second pnze awarded by the Academ-e Royale
d'ArChitecture in on demulalion. Paris. 1 788. From Richard A. Ethn. The
Architecture 01 Deatn (Camb(ldge MIT Press. 1 984)
winged, butwhatpainting canfurnishoutanything so
grand as the addition of one word, 'the Angel of the
Lord?' "And howdoesonegoaboutpainting-in such
a waythat strengthmeasuresup to feeling-the "uni-
verseofdeath"whereendsthevoyageoffallenangels
in Milton's Paradise Lost?
Words have several advantages when it comes to
keptatbay,held back. Thissuspense,this lesseningof
threator danger, provokes a kindof pleasurewhich IS
hardly positive satisfaction, but is rathermore like re-
lief. Thisstill qualifies as privation, but il is privationin
theseconddegree:theSpiritisdeprivedofthethreatof
being deprived of light. language, life, Burkedistin-
guishedthispleasureinprivationfromthepositiveplea-
indeterminate: a pleasure mixed with pain, pleasure
that comes frn'Tl pain. In the event of an absolutely
immense object-a desert, a mountain, a pyramid-or
one that is absolutely powerlul-a storm at sea, an
erupting volcano-which like all absolutes can only be
considered without reason, the imagination and the
ability to present fail to provide appropriate repre-
sentations, This frustration of expression kindles a
pain, a kind of cleavage within the subject between
what can be conceived and what can be imagined. But
this pain in turn engenders a pleasure, in fact a double
pleasure: the recognition 9f the impotence of the im-
agination contrarily attests to an imagination striving to
illuminate even that which cannot be illuminated, and
the imagination thus means to harmonize its object to
reason-and furthermore the inadequacy of images,
as negative signs, attests to the Immense power ot
Ideas. These unruly powers give rise to an extreme
tension (Kant's agitation) which sets the pathos of the
sublime apart fromthe calm sense of beauty. Fromany
vantage point around this cleavage, infinity, or the
absoluteness of Idea, is revealed in what Kant calls a
negative presentation, or even a nonpresentation. He
cites the J ewish law banning images as an eminent
example of negative presentation: optical pleasure
reduced to nearly nothing promotes an endless con-
templation of infinty. Even before romantic art was
unleashed from classical and baroque figuration, the
door had thus been opened to inquines pointing to-
ward abstract and Minimal art, Avant-qardrsrn is thus
present in germ stage in the Kantian esthetic of the
sublime. The art, however, whose effects are analyzed
therein, is of course essentially made up of attempts at
representing sublime subjects. And the question Is it
happening? does notpertain-at leastnotexplicitly-
to Kant's problematic.
I do, however,believe thatquestiontobe atthevery
centerof EdmundBurke'sPhilosophical Enquiry. Kant
maywell haverejectedBurke'sthesis infavorofempir-
icismand physiologism, he mayalso have borrowed
fromBurke'sanalysis of the characterizing contradic-
tion of the sublime, but he clearly ransacked Burke's
esthetic forwhatI consider to be its major gambit-to
show that the sublime is kindled by the threat that
nothing further might happen. Beauty gives positive
pleasure, but there is another kind of pleasure that is
boundto a passionfar strongerthansatisfaction, and
thatis sufferingand impending death. Insufferingthe
body affects the soul, but the soul can also affect the
bodyjust as though itwereexperiencing someexter-
nallyinduced pain, and itcando this solelybymeans
of representationsthatareconsciously linked topain-
ful Situations.This entirelyspiritual passion, forBurke,
is synonymous with terror.Terrorsarelinkedto priva-
tions: privationof light, terrorof darkness; privationof
others,terrorof solitude; privationof language, terrorof
silence; privationofobjects, terror01 emptiness; priva-
tionof life, terrorof death. Whatis terrifyingisthattheIt
happens that will not happen, that it will stop hap-
pening.
BurkewrotethattorthisterrortomingIewithpleasure
and with it produce a sublime sensation, It is also
necessarythattheterror-causingthreatbesuspended,
theywerethe lastword, and it did not, forthat matter,
comeanycloser tostopping Withtheabstractionsthey
heralded. One after another, the barriers against the
currentof questionsfromtheoreticiansandmanifestos
fromthepaintersthemselveswerecarried awaybythe
necessityof testifyingonbehalfoftheindeterminate.A
formalistdefinition of the pictorial object, suchas that
proposed by Clement Greenberg when confronted
with American "post-plastic" abstraction, was soon
overturnedbyMinimalism. Dowehave tohavestretch-
erssothecanvas canbetaut? No.Whataboutcolors?
Malevich's black square on white had already
answeredthis question in 1913. Is an object neces-
sary? Body art and happenings went about proving
thatitwasnot. Isaspacenecessary,atleastaspacein
which to display, as evenDucharnp'sFountain, 1917,
still suggested? Daniel Buren'sworktestifiesthateven
this ISsubject to doubt.
Whetherthey belong to the current that art history
calls Minimalismor Arte Poveraor whatnot. theinves-
tigallonsof theavant-gardesonebyonesolicited com-
ponentsthatonemight havethought"elementary"toor
atthe"origin" oftheartofpainting. Theyhave operated
ex minimis. One would havetooppose the rigor that
animates them to the principle sketched out by
Theodor W. Adorno at the end of Negative Dialektik
(1966), and that controls the writing in Aesthetfsche
Theorie (1970): that the thought that "accompanies
metaphysics inits decline" canonly proceedinterms
of "micrologies."
Micrology is not metaphysics in crumbs, just as
Newman'spaintingis notDelacroixinscraps. Microlo-
gyregisterstheoccurrence ofthoughtastheunthought
that remainsto be thought inthedecline of thegrand
philosophical thought.Theavant-gardisteffortrecords
the occurrence of a perceivable "now" as something
unpresentable that remains to be presented in the
decline of the grand representational painting. Like
micrology, theavant-gardedoes notworryaboutwhat
happenstothe"subject," butaboutIs it happening?, a
rawstate. Inthis senseit belongs to theestheticof the
sublime,
InquestioningtheIt happens, avant-gardeartaban-
dons its previous identifying role in relation to the
receivingcommunity.Evenwhenconsidered, as itwas
byKant, a horizonor assumptionde jure ratherthana
realityde facto,asensus communis (whichKantrefers
towhenwritingaboutbeauty,notthesublime) doesnot
J ellwhenitcomestoworks ofartthatquestion. Itbarely
coalesces, and usually too late, when these works,
deposited in museums, are considered part of the
community heritage and are made available for its
cultural edification and pleasure. And even herewe
are'stili talking about objects or entities that can be
objectified, for instance through photography.
Inthis situationof Isolation and misunderstanding,
avant-garde art is vulnerable and subject to repres-
sion. It seems only to have aggravatedthe Identity
crisis that swept these communities during Olelong
"depression" that lastedfromthe '30s until theend01
"reconstruction" in the mid '50s It is impossible here
even to suggest howthe Nation-parties were struck
withfearbeforethe Who are we? andananxietyof the
bythepainter, throughtheexpenseof anInteriordiSCI-
pline that rids perceptual and intellectual fields of
prejudices as deeply ingrained as vision itself. If the
viewer does not submit to a complementary Interior
process, the painting will remain senseless and im-
penetrabletohimor her. Thepainter mustnothesitate
to runthe riskof being takenfora meredauber. "One
paints for very little." Recognition fromthe regulatory
institutions of painting-Academy, salons, criticism,
taste-is ot umeimportancecompared tothediscern-
mentthepainter-seekerbrings tothesuccessobtained
bytheworkof artinrelationtowhat isreallyatstake:to
reveal what makes one see, and notwhat is visible.
MauriceMerleau-Pontyelaboratedonwhatheright-
ly called "Cezanne's doubt" as though what was at
stakeforthatpainterwas, ineffect, toseizeperception
andrenderItatbirth-perception "before" perception,
thewonder of "it happening," I would say, color in ItS
occurrence, at least as regards the eye. The phe-
nomenologistwho soconfidently bestowsthevalue of
"oriqination" upon Cezanne's "petites sensations"
mustbeat teasta little credulous. Thepainterhimself,
who ottencomplained of their inadequacy, wrote that
theywere"abstractions," thatthey"preventedhimfrom
coveringthecanvas." Butwhyshould it be necessary
to cover the canvas? Is it forbidden to be abstract?
The doubt thaI gnaws at the avant-gardes did not
stopwithCezanne's"chromatic sensations"as though
41
AQa\t Her speaking to storm troopers during Nazi Party
congress. Nuremberg. Germany. September 11 1938. Photo:
Wide World
that would, according to Cezanne's hypothests, of
themselves constitutethe entire pictorial existenceof
an object-a fruit, a mountain, a face, or a flower,
Withoutconsidera\lon of historyor "subject," of line, of
space, evenof light. Theseelementarysensationsare
hidden inordinaryperception, Theyareonly accessi-
bletothepainter, andthereforecanonly bereinstated
tomodels, butwould tryto presentthe unpresentable:
it would no longer imitate nature but would be an
artifact,asimulacrum. TheSOCial communitywouldno
longerrecognize itself inartobjects, butwould scorn
them, reject them as incomprehensible, and then
would accept that the Intellectual avant-garde might
preservethemin museums as the remnantsof offen-
sivesthatbearwitness tothepower, andtherawness,
of the spirit.
Withtheadventof sublime esthetics. thestakeof art
inthe 19thand 20th centuries was to be witness (0
indeterminacy. For painting, the paradox that Burke
signaledinhis observations on the powerof words IS
that such testimony can only be achieved through
determined methods. Support, frame, line, color,
space, the figure were all to remain subject to the
representational constraints of romantic art. But trus
contradiction of ends and means had, as early as
Mane!and Cezanne, the effect of once again casting
doubt on the legitimacy of certain rules that deter-
minedrepresentationsof the figure inspace and the
organization of colors and values since the quat-
trocento Reading Cezanne's correspondence, one
understandsthathisaccomplishment was notthatof a
talentedpainter finding his "style," butthatof anartist
resooncino to the question what IS a painting? His
workhad at stake to record on a support only those
"chromatic sensations," those "petites senssuons,'
. , plan WIthsection for "Cenotaph in Honor 01the Explorers Who
thevoyageof M. deI ..a Perouse..FromTheArch,tecture of Death
valences of the artistic condition, The artist would be-
gin to attempt combinations in order to create events.
The amateur would no longer experience simple plea-
sure or derive some ethical benefit from his contact
with art, but would Instead expect an intensification of
his conceptual and emotional capacity, an ambivalent
joyousness. The art object would no longer bend itself
Thelatter, nodoubt, continues tobeareactionagainst
the matter-of-fact positivism and calculated 'realism
thatgoverns theformer, aswriters onartsuchasSten-
1
threatweighing against avant-garde advances inthe
area of the artwork-event, against avant-garde
attemptstowelcomethenow. no longerevenrequires
Nation-parties. It proceeds "directly" out of market
economics. The correlation between this and the
esthetic of the sublime IS ambiguous, even perverse
Becauseof the "crisis" of hypercapitalismthat has
sweptthroughmostof today's "developed" societies,
anotherattackontheavant-gardescomestolight. The
42
sariats and collaborating artists, painters and musi-
cians especially, had to block the mute, negative di-
alectic oils i t happening? by translatingthequestion
Dan Flavin. Unrir/~d (10 Helene 1). 1977. pink, yellow. blue. and green
fluorescent light. lnstauauonviewat Heiner Friedrich Gallery.NewYork.
as having to do with waiting for a fabulous "subject". Is
a pure people happening? Is the Fuhrer happening? Is
Siegfried coming? The esthetic of the sublime, thus
neutralized and converted into a politics of myth. was
able to construct its architecture of human "formations"
on the Zeppelin Field at Nuremberg.
void, and howthey tried to convsrt auof this into hatred
{or the avant-gardes. Hildegarde Brenner's study of
artistic policy under Nazism, and the films of Hans
J ClrgenSyberberg, do not simply analyze these repres-
sive maneuvers. Instead they explain how neoromantic
and symbolic forms imposed by cultural cornrnis-
Translated from the French by Lisa Ltecmen-,
J ean-Francois tvotaro IS a prolessorol philosophy at the University 01Parts VIII. and
a member or the College mtemanonale de ptutcscphle He is currently preparing
"The immatenats." an exhlrnllOr,101the Ce<lIre Georges Pompidolj. InPans
Is it happening? arrests. Will is defeated by occur-
rence. The avant-garde task is to undo spiritual
assumptionsregarding time. Thesenseof thesublime
ISthe nameof this dismantling.
moment,whereasone is merelyreflecting thespirit of
the marketplace. Sublimity no longer IS in art, but In
speculating on art.
The eruqrnaof Is it happening? nonetheless is not
dissipated, noristhetaskot painting theindeterminate
outot date. Theoccurrence, theEreigms, has nothing
to do with the petit tnsson, the rentable pathos, that
accompanies innovation. Hidden In the cynicism of
innovationis surelya despair that nothing furtherWill
43
Agnes Manin, Unrilled #13, 1977, india ink. graphite. and gesso on canvas, 72
x 72"
happen. Butto innovatemeans to behaveas though
any number of things could happen, and it means
taking actionto makethemhappen. Inaffirming itself,
will affirms its hegemonyovertime. It also conformsto
the metaphysics of capital, which is a techne.oqyof
time. Innovation"advances." Thequestionmarkorthe
allegedly incompatible formulas, by amalgamations,
quotations,ornamentations, pastiches. Onecango as
faraskitschorthebaroque.Oneflattersthe"taste"of a
public, andtheeclecticism of a sensibility enfeebled
by the multiplicity of forms and available objects. In
this wayone thinks one is expressing the spirit ot the
dhal. Charles Baudelaire, StephaneMallarme.Guil-
laurne Apollinaire, and Andre Breton all have under-
lined. Yet there ISa kind of collusion between capital
and the avant-garde. The forces of skepticism and
evendestruction that capitalism has put into action-
something that Marx never ceased to analyze and
ieentify-have encouraged among artists a mistrust of
established rules and a willingness to experiment with
various modes of expression, with styles, with ever new
materials. There is something 01the sublime incapital-
isteconomy. It ISnot academic, it is not physiocratic, it
den~esnature. It is, in a sense, an economy regulated
by an Idea-Infinite wealth or power. It does not pro-
vide any example from nature that might verify this
Idea.Insubordinating sciencethroughtechnologies, It
onlysucceeds in making reality appear increasingly
In~angible,subject to doubt, unsteady.
Humanexperience, indivrdual and collective, and
theaurathat surrounds It aredi luted by instant grati-
ficationandself-affirmationthroughsuccess. Eventhe
virtuallytheological depth of the worker's condition,
andof workitself, which has markedthesocialist and
labormovementsforover acenturyhasbeendevalued
sinceworkhasbecomea monrtoringdeviceandman-
ipulatorof information.Theseobservations are banal,
butwhatdoes merit attentionis the disappearanceof
thetemporalcontinuumthroughwhichtheexperience
ofgenerationsusedto betransmitted Thedtstnbution
ofiniormationis becoming theonly criterion of social
importance, yet Information is by definition a short-
~Ivedelement.AssoonasItistransmittedandsharedit
ceasesto be Informationbut has Insteadbecome an
environmental given; "all is said"-we supposedly
"know."Ithasbeenfed intothememorymachine. The
durationof time it occupies is, so to speak, Instan-
taneous Betweentwo informations, by definition, no-
thinglhappens. A confusion thereby arises between
whatisofInterestintermsof informationandIntermsof
circuitry systems, and another between the avant-
gardeinvestrqauonof thatwhich hasjusthappened-
tinenew-and the Is IIhappemng?, the now
Onehas to concede that the art market, subject as
areall marketstothesovereigntyof thenew, canexert
akindof seductionforartists. ThISattractionhastodo
witl; morethanJ ustcorruption. Itexertsitself withinthe
coundariesof acontusionbetweeninnovationandthe
Ereigtlis that time itself imposes on contemporary
capitausm."Strong" mtorrnauon.Ifonecancalli! that,
existsinanInverselogic totheSignificancethatcanbe
attributedto Itthroughthecode available toits receiv-
er lit is like "noise." It is easy for the pubhc and for
artists, advised by mtermedrartes=the diffusers of
cultural merchandise-to draw fromthis observation
thenotion that a work of art is avant-garde in direct
proportiontotheextenttowhich itISstrippedof mean-
Ing.Is itthennotratherlike anevent?J ustas Withany
novelty,ItISnecessarythattheabsurdityoftheworknot
dliscouragebuyers Thesecret of artistic success, like
commercialsuccess, resides Inthe balance between
thatwruchis surprising andthatwhich is"well-known,"
betweenInformation and code. Innovation in art IS
such: one resumes already proven formulas, one
throwsthemoff killer by combining themwith other,