Interpiktorial - The Beautiful Within The Sublime
Kunstraum Arcade (Beethovenhaus) 12 October - 16 November 2024
The Beautiful Within The SublimeÂ
by Martyna Benedyka
If black and white blend, soften, and uniteÂ
A thousand ways, is there no black and white?
Alexander Pope [1]
I have always been fascinated by the fact that we can never fully comprehend the magnitude of the gigantic monuments, landscapes, or creatures due to their size or beauty, let alone the vastness of the universe. This inability to judge and sometimes to separate beauty and an almost malevolent, yet elegant, sublime and its infinity, inspired me to explore the two types of aesthetic experience in response to painting.
The origins of the word sublime, which comes from the Old French limite (a boundary) and the Latin sublimis (lofty, eminent, distinguished), paint an intriguing picture of how the sublime [das Erhabene] became a boundless form, a phenomenon revealing our powerlessness in determining any limits to what we encounter.
In his philosophical treatise The Critique of Judgment, German philosopher Immanuel Kant argued that beauty and sublimity must coexist in art. This contrasts with Irish thinker Edmund Burke who said that sublime and beautiful are mutually exclusive. They then agreed that the sublime is monumental and simple, while the beautiful must usually be small and ornate. However, unlike Kant, Burke argued that the sublime is the most powerful physical experience, rooted in the senses rather than the power of reason.
When speaking of beauty, Kant saw it as purposiveness without purpose [Zweckmäßigkeit ohne Zweck]. What is surprising is how the philosopher claims that beautiful objects have certain (splendid) visual properties, such as symmetry, and should therefore be seen as having a purpose, albeit one that is not specific. The sublime, on the other hand, is what he describes as chaotic and unstructured, something that frightens us, that is actually purposeless. It follows that he expands on Burke’s concept that beauty is a pure and refined quality, similar to a very smooth and fragile object, whereas the sublime remains dark and terrifying.Â
Whereas the beautiful is limited, the sublime is limitless, so that the mind in the presence of the sublime, attempting to imagine what it cannot, has pain in the failure but pleasure in contemplating the immensity of the attempt.
Immanuel Kant [2]
The sublime in Kant's perception is found in formless, suprasensory and infinite objects, in which we find both pain and pleasure. The shape of the object we observe can seem pleasurable, evoking thoughts of purity and harmony, as well as what the philosopher himself called negative pleasure (pleasure which is possible only by means of a displeasure [3]).
Burke, in turn, separated the two, pointing out that beauty can only result from pleasure, whereas pain must originate from the sublime. However, he believed that in specific circumstances, perhaps when overwhelmed by the infinite, we are able to feel a delightful horror akin to joy.
When danger or pain press too nearly, they are incapable of giving any delight, and are simply terrible; but at certain distances, and with certain modifications, they may be, and they are, delightful, as we every day experience.
Edmund Burke [4]Â
In the context of infinity and eternity, pleasure, pain and even death, the Rorschach mirror effect comes to mind. This test, developed by Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Hermann Rorschach, is used by psychologists to test personality traits. Test participants are shown a series of inkblots that reflect shapes and objects in order to reveal a deeper sense of the most poignant or distressing memories.
Here I have used this concept to contemplate unusual idiosyncrasies, similar to experiencing the (subjective) beauty in the sublime. The perspective can shift in an instant, connecting to very personal, often vulnerable, fragments of life amidst the realm of imagination and the realm of the mind, amidst the beautiful and the horrific.
Beauty is present in the mixture of predictable and chaotic situations, occasionally tense but shielded from potential danger. I often avoid acknowledging that it has a limited form due to its structure. Diversity, uniformity, and imperfection must all be present within its confines.
Immersing myself in the sensory experiences of beauty leads to the gradual breaking down of those feelings as the sublime is triggered. Investigating their boundaries to understand how they relate to painting under the Kantian and Burkean philosophies can be likened to painting passionately at times, a sensation that is both unsettling and breathtaking, attempting to reduce terror in search of the ideal sublime. It is irrefutable that the combination of imperfect beauty and perfect sublimity can evoke profound and mysterious inner experiences.
Certain paintings may appear weighty and emit a sense of dullness. Nevertheless, by including intricate elements, they draw the viewer into a space characterized by a balanced blend of beauty and the sublime. Just like philosophy, painting does not provide definite answers, if it provides any at all, and that aspect intrigues me.
The act of painting transforms into an eternal ritual, a private universe that can be as overwhelming as the awe-inspiring monumental landscapes. Trying to adorn and outline the immensity may result in futility.
In these intimately scaled paintings, I feel compelled to reinterpret both philosophical ideas, almost deconstructing the aesthetics to reflect on the perception of harmony and chaos, without losing focus.
In the greatness and obscurity of things, I concentrate on the power of a sole picture or memory until it becomes a hallucinatory scene, similar to silently gazing at a nonexistent ocean horizon, and I dwell on the beautiful in the sublime.
Text: Martyna Benedyka
Burke, Edmund. Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful, 1757 [4]
Kant, Immanuel. The Critique of Judgement, 1790 [3]
Kant, Immanuel. The Critique of Pure Reason, 1781 [2]
Pope, Alexander. An Essay on Man: Epistle II, 1734 [1]