― dleone, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
2. I stopped trying to write about artistic intentions when I realised that a lot of music I liked didn't have any, or the only guessable intention was the profit-motive. Models of criticism based on intentionality would downgrade that kind of music as inferior to music where intention is stated or transparent. Which is fine and consistent except from my point of view would be entirely dishonest.
3. When a piece of music is played there are multiple intentions at work. There is the intention of the creator, the intention of the listener, and the intention of the selector (who might be creator or listener or a third party). I'm not opposed to discussion of artistic intentions but I think these other intentions should be given weight in criticism.
4. Writing about artistic intention shifts the focus of criticism towards the recording of music. Ignoring it shifts the focus towards playback of music - the moment of playback, its immediate impact and continued effect. This to my mind is an aspect of music that's equally important and easier to relate to.
― Tom, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
2. Art that does exactly what the artist intends is just propaganda. More interesting art is made with unclear intentions than art that wants to send a specific message.
3. Isn't the art more important than the artist? Who cares what they think, what they intend to do? A piece of art should be about what it means to the people who view it not what it means to its creator.
― fritz, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
Having said that, I think the caveat is that most artists aren't that bright, and many a times what one perceives as intent really is much the negative space constructed by accident.
― Mickey Black Eyes, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― Ronan, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― Sterling Clover, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
That said, I think some art is designed to be noisy in the information theory sort of way, and that's totally cool. Italo Calvino mentioned something about that, I'm paraphrasing, but I think it goes like, "some art is designed for interpretation, some art ain't."
Hasn't there been a discussion about this already?
If an artist has said something about intention or motivation in the liner notes and I've found it relevant to my experience of the record I'll mention that, sure. If not then I probably won't - I wouldn't ever deny an artist's stated intention or try to claim it was different from what it is. As for interviews, bleh, it's not my job as a critic to read the things. (Not that my job is being a critic, heh).
I think what's missing from a lot of music criticism is the sense in which a listener idenfities with and becomes the artist during their experience of music. That doesn't always happen but it sometimes does, and that's where intentionality can become important because the listener's play-acting of the artist is bound to have some assumed intentionalities in it.
― J, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
Similarly, I find the manics cover of "Suicide Is Painless" particularly GRATE because what it can mean, what it's supposed to mean, all that is mixed-up.
Actually I think listeners become the song or the music rather than the artist. I have rather odd ideas I suspect about what happens to a listener during the act of listening.
I think that it's fairly useless to read a critic, as opposed to talk to my sister, if the critic is completely unversed in a certain genre and yet covers it. I.e. WIRE when they cover classical music. On the other hand, if understanding intent is impossible, thus a general consensus impossible, how could one ever claim to understand or be familiar with a genre? Without agreed upon conventions, and thus understanding the variations upon that convention, there's no such thing as a genre. This issue is sorta like navel-gazing, but it gets terribly complicated, but is very important, I think, to properly appreciating a critique of a work of art.
― Alan Trewartha, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
Mickey's questions are pretty much why I don't often pretend to write reviews. The thing is classing experience-based criticism as 'creative writing 101' is too reductionist. I think writing about your own experiences can make for entertaining writing, of course, but it can also make for inspiring writing, if only by making the reader think about similar experiences they've had with music. And I for one find how music is used and consumed and fitted into the rest of life endlessly interesting, and personal testimony is a key part of examining that.
The question that's really being asked - who are critics writing for? The people who haven't heard the album and want to know if it's good, or the people who have and want to see if they can get more out of it, approach it from a new angle maybe.
the history of 20th century classical music was to a considerable extent an attempt to leave the gravitational pull of the 19th-century (eg pre-nietzsche-freud-marx-mallarme-blah) theory of romantic intentionality
(the problem w. the wire is not so much too little grasp of the history per se as FAR too much reliance rough-guide jounalist'sshortcut to this history — but then it has a REAL BIG GIANT problem with the discussion of history and its mediation in all forms and styles i think) (but them i am a historian sorta so i would think that))
having spent upwards of ten years studying stockhausen's own writings on his music, i am quite happy to say fuck this, this is (mostly) pompous self-deluded rubbish which totally gets in the way of what's actually going on, of what he's actually DOING , as opposed to what he SAYS he's doing - but of course that too is an argument about intentionality...
― mark s, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
(i wuv strav and stock btw)
Back to the original point, the things that would make me read experiential criticism would be, I suppose, good writing on your part- -but that would turn criticism more into a piece of "art" in and of itself, and less a reflection of a work. That's totally fine, but I think that skews the point of criticism. That's not to say that good criticism can't be art, but I hope the difference is obvious between that line of thinking and the former.
Again I'd have to come back to - who is the critic writing for? People who've not heard a record or people who have? In my experience, experiential criticism is much more useful and interesting for the second group. To take Lester Bangs' piece on Astral Weeks, probably the best-loved piece of experiential rock criticism out there: as someone who's never heard Astral Weeks it succeeds as writing and fails as useful criticism, i.e. it doesn't make me want to hear the record or not. If I had heard the record and knew it then Lester's words might spark all kinds of associations off in me and make me hear different things in it - and suddenly it would be useful, more so than a piece of writing which said "Astral Weeks is good, you should hear it."
If you don't, all intentions are equally worthless.
I back Mr Ewing in general, as a parcel sorta.
― the pinefox, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
(My basic answer, anyway, is "because you know me", and "know" here might just mean reading one piece of mine and liking it enough to remember my name or the URL. This is the really great thing about the Internet - it allows experiential criticism to be broadcast without needing an audience to back it up.)
Sorry I'm quite tired today so may just not be understanding you!
2. When trying to understand the artist's intent, you are necessarily going to be dealing with limited information. Even in the cases where the artist has stated their intentions, complete understanding of the artist's viewpoint is not possible - it will always be subject to differing interpretations and there is always the possibility that the artist will say, "You misunderstood me." Why make a hard task even harder by trying to speak for the artist? Easier to let the art speak for itself.
3. Just because.
― o. nate, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
To me, the essence of pop-relativism is "don't tell me what it means, my opinion is as valid as yours because we're not psychic." And as such, extrapolating as a useful means of communication from the perceiver means that I have no clue what anything means, insomuchas all the guidelines have been removed from content. Does blue mean blue? And what does "blue" mean in that sentence? And what does that sentence mean in that paragraph, etc. That would have no point. It would be like me saying "I like cheese." And you having no right to assume that I like cheese, because under the auspices of the 70's semi-demi-pomo state of mind, you have no clue where I'm coming from.
The response to that comparison is usually, "that's ridiculous, there has to be some agreed upon convention." And that's where the stickywicket comes in. Once we've agreed that there must be some convention, then all bets are off as to why it is that we musn't try our best to guess the artist's intent. Bear in mind that I'm not advocating that we don't internalise art.
Also, I think that guessing an artist's intent in music is very different than visual art which is again very different than writing. And for me, I'm far more used to thinking about it in terms of writing and then visual art. The most difficult issue for me is to figure out what it means to guess an artist's "intent" in music.
I don't see how the artist's opinion of his or her work is relevant to how the work should be evaluated. What you seem to be arguing for is this scheme:
1. Artist has idea of what work of art should be 2. Artist creates work of art 3. Art is judged by artist as a success or failure based upon how close the work comes to the idea.
This seems to be wholly pointless to me, for a multitude of reasons. First, I've never known an artist who has a fully-formed idea of what she's trying to accomplish at the outset--usually, there is a root idea and the work develops from there, and at the end the artist is either happy with the finished product or dissatisfied with it. Second, I view the artist's feelings about the work as a major distraction -- some perfectionists are never satisfied with their creations, despite the fact that the listener might view them as wonderful. Third, I think a work of art is far more interesting when it is interpreted in complete disregard of the author's intention -- a rather silly example of this is some listeners' obsessive interpretation of lyrics, which may or may not have anything to do with what the author thought he or she was writing about. Finally, I think that most listeners don't actually experience music as an identification with the artist -- even the Bangs piece has virtually nothing to do with Van Morrisson or his intentions. In fact, there's a specific part of the piece where Lester writes:
Morrison has said in at least one interview that the song has nothing to do with any kind of transvestite - at least as far as he knows, he is quick to add - but that's bullshit.
Here, the writer is expressly rejecting the musician's interpretation of the work of art, and the work is far more interesting as a result.
Overall though, I just think it's really weird that apparently no one in this thread has engaged with critical theory literature on this topic. Author-centered theories of interpretation have been under sustained attack in academia and in pop music writing for at least the last thirty years if not longer. The author was proclaimed dead in the sixties, for crying out loud. Why try and bring him back now?
So basically my position is - cultural relativism is theoretically absolute, but in practical terms it suits us to pretend that it isn't, and cultural discourse on whatever scale works on a two-tier basis, both negotiating the place of objects within the agreed framework, and continually negotiating the framework itself at the same time.
Meanwhile, yes - criticism is still criticism if you already know the work being criticised. If you read a book of literary criticism about Shakespeare, for instance, the author needn't assume familiarity with Shakespeare but to do so wouldn't exclude them from being critics.
I'm defining a Critic as a particular style of writer, traditionally print based and still hidebound by the conventions of print in terms of the relationshiop with the reader. I don't accept that 'we are all Critics'.
Almost all of it usually results in poor writing, or rather, writing I find tiresome, it is rarely informative in a way that can illuminate the recording - even though knowledge IN THE LISTENER of the 'back story' can be interesting.
Most of the answers here seem to be about why LISTENERS may or may not need to know the artists intent.
Me, I like to know the artists intent, I like to know as much of the surroundings of a piece of work as I can - basically I like the gossip. I try real hard to not actually let it preventing me enjoying a good tune though. Some of my favourite records are made by people I wouldn't let babysit for me - so I guess I'm kinda glad I don't know the intent of some of my favourites.
― Alexander Blair, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
I think that in many cases it is interesting and useful to know what the artist intended to do. This is particularly true when the artist is attempting to do something unconventional, experimental, or unique. Among the many varieties of useless reviews are the reviews in which the reviewer clearly has no clue what the artist was trying to do and basically misses the point entirely. This would be akin to a 1940s jazz critic complaining of Charlie Parker that "he plays too many notes." Clearly this type of reviewer is an idiot. Paying attention to the artist's intentions may help to avoid this type of ignorance.
Yes to the first question, no to the second. That is because in Parker's case the notes serve a higher aesthetic purpose, whereas in Malmsteen's case they do not.
― Ned Raggett, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
Actually an interesting point here - a lot of the leeway we're willing to give artistic intention is based on how much we like or respect the finished product.
Undoubtedly, Malmsteen would disagree with my judgment. He is entitled to his view, as I am entitled to mine. However, I refuse to fall back on a theoretical position of total relativism. Even if the assumption of the existence of absolute standards is only a consensual fiction, it still provides a useful framework for discussion, and I am loathe to discard it. Therefore, I maintain my view that Malmsteen's music is bad in an objective sense.
In other words, the range of interpretation is a long, long way from the infinite that hardcore relativists usually like to cite.
― Ben Williams, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
In terms of crossing the street, then, you can't say, "red is green and green is red" (unless you're colour-blind perhaps), but you can say i will cross on red and stay on green, I reject these cultural values. All you're then doing is breaking a part of the cultural contract: the fact that this may well have immediate practical and fatal consequences and no conceivable benefits might make you stupid but it doesn't make you objectively wrong - if everyone else had decided to go along with you there would have been no consequences at all. Value judgements about art and pop music, thankfully, have very few practical consequences so we can negotiate those parts of the contract (many notes = good) with impunity.
― A Nairn, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
In practical terms of course nobody cares if a critical pariah like Yngwie gets his intentions derided or even denied.
I heard a John Ford interview once, in which he was asked what he was trying to achieve with a film. He said "A cheque. I was trying to achieve forty thousand dollars."
Almost all of John Ford's films are better than those of almost anyone else. QED.
― Martin Skidmore, Monday, 18 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
Really what I am getting at is that your contract metaphor sounds much too civilized and malleable. There are all kinds of different contracts, created at all different times in history, with all sorts of degrees of enforcability. (At the far end of the scale, gravity may indeed be relative, but as long as you live on Earth, good luck trying to reinterpret it). Cultural contracts are definitely at the more fluxible end of things, but even so are not always to be renegotiate on a whim--you better be a great lawyer...
(Argh, why do I always get sucked into this debate)
Anyway, I do think an artist's intent matters--it's just nowhere near the last word. The first way to judge a work of art is on its own terms. If you don't understand what it's trying to do in the first place, you're in no position to rebut or reinterpret it. Of course, the best critics are not the consumer guides but those who can then take that piece of art and make something else with it...
This is an interesting point, and I think you've uncovered a very real problem for the intentionalist critic who wants to maintain the language of objective standards. I do want to maintain the language of objective standards; however, I am not an intentionalist critic of the sort you describe. Despite what I wrote above, I don't think that the critic is required to understand the artist's intentions before they can critique his music. All I am really saying in what I wrote above is that an understanding of the artist's intentions can serve as rhetorical ammunition for the critic who wishes to defend his critical stance. While it makes the critic's stance more persuasive, it does not - and cannot - prove that the critic is right or wrong. The critic could be right about the music being bad even if they don't understand the artist's intentions. Conversely, they could be wrong about the music being good even if they do understand the artist's intentions.
That's THE interesting point. This idea of some truth to the artist's intention is really fictional, and just a way for the listener to smuggle in his or her own feelings about the work. So why bother?
Moreover, while "death of the author" theory has come under attack in recent years, there's been no counter-theory advanced--the attacks tend to take the form of mocking straw men (cf. "The Pooh Perplex," "The Postmodern Pooh") that avoid engaging with the theories ostensibly being criticized. The only thoughful critique I've come into contact with is "Against Deconstruction," but even that book does not rebut the deconstructive argument itself, instead focusing on the application of the argument and the effects that the argument has on traditional concepts of meaning.
Why are most "anti-relativists" convinced that if we ignore the intent of the author that the whole world blows up?
I don't have anything else to add.
― J, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― dleone, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― Tom, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
A "product review" is primarily concerned with telling you whether something is good or bad, with rating it, two thumbs up or down.
In "artistic critique" (bad descriptive term for this, but), rating is of secondary or no concern. The primary concern here is making connections beyond the work of art, whether to history, to personal experience, to other works of art or (if you're Adorno) to the oppressive hegemony of global capitalism.
― Ben Williams, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― mark s, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― static, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― o. nate, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― Tracer Hand, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
It seems to me that the problem is that the "non-intentionalist" argument is being misconstrued again; I don't think anyone has argued that the author *doesn't have* an intent, we've just been arguing that the author's intent isn't reliable or interesting to comment on when trying to examine a record. Presumably, Dylan had different sounds in mind for TOoM than for BoB, but in neither case can we say with any confidence what those "different sounds" were, or how the final product compares to those sounds.
Still, I think there's probably more to your question that I'm going to have to puzzle through.
Easy, you shuffle the tracks in your mp3 player and destroy the vision of the album as a unified statement. Which was starting to slowly collapse anyway.
― Ned Raggett, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
Suppose the artist's intention is to produce an emotional = intellectual effect (or more likely, a sequence of such effects). Is it the case that this effect can also be produced by interrogating the artist (or in more likely, speculating on the results of such an interrogating) as to what the the hell they thought they were "trying" to do?
A comedian tells a joke. The audience laughs. An unreconstructed militant intentionalist asks the comedian what his intentions were. The comedian says "I wanted to make people laugh." UMI (pressing the point): "But this is what you really want to be doing, isn't it, explaining yourself to me?" Comedian: "Not really." UMI: "Then you are claiming that nothing means anything."
Do you actually respect the artist's intention by loudly and insistently announcing their intention? (Intentionalists always seem — for example — precisely to miss the main and obvious point of the joke of Duchamp's urinal...)
The album isn't going anywhere.
Tracer, in the case of your picture there, I fully sympathise with not reading the blurb. If my art was packing that kind of visual punch that got a message across without words - I'd almost resent the blurb. But I'd still hope that the viewer is experiencing what I intended and realising that it's no accident (before this goes off on another tangent - I'm not saying that accidents can't be incorporated into art - simply that art isn't created by accident alone). Wasn't it at least clear to you that some form of disorientation was part of the intent? You liked it because it managed to do something to you, and also probably because it did it on purpose, no? If the 'on purpose' bit really does nothing for you, I'll say it's probably much cheaper to stand on the sidewalk and get woozy looking up at the big buildings. Does that sound snarky? I hope not.
People used to say that about the shuffle function on CDs too. The album isn't going anywhere.
Key and urgent difference: in the past, you had to buy the CDs anyway. Here you don't -- indeed, once you have the one or two songs you figure you'd like from the album anyway, you might go no further. The album will continue on, but will it always be so predominant? I'm thinking not.
Again, to illustrate a point, how does Tom or Mark know what I mean by "creative writing 101"? According to the destruction of the author, I could have any number of meanings. One could argue that it's quite obvious, and let's assume that stands, I'll allow that little bit of intentionality to creep in. Let's take another example- -why would Mark assume that "'Saying "Frankfurt = the only context in which to read Adorno' as a (slightly desperate) way to detoxify Ben's Adorno bomb" is an assumption of the intention of why I said Frankfurt. In fact, I meant that Adorno is but one of a large number of aesthetic theorists, and not necessarily the killer that Mark seems to apply he is. Frankfurt was merely some context for those who do not know who Adorno is. Not to mention that without context/intention, history would have no place. I could have said it for a million reasons--according to the absolution of context, which figures into intention quite readily.
How do we understand any number of paintings, works by Francis Bacon, Rauschenberg, Klein, without understanding their context/motivation? One could argue that they appreciate them, like Static mentioned, on a purely contextless basis, but that would seriously shortchange them. In an ironic way, that was Duchamp's point, or my assumption of his point--that anything can be art, but precisely that measure which it implies is the will or intention of it to be such. His "intent" was to show such an idea.
The frustration is that of course one assumes things, one has to in order to communicate. Intention is one of them. We do it on the assumption that what we assume is correct, otherwise we wouldn't assume it. We'd assume something else. Our choices, while we may keep in mind that it perhaps has a degree of error, are not some fuzzy delineation--we're quite clear on the intent.
And Mark, I would rephrase the comedian's intent. I think the intent would be the hook of the joke, not the comedian's intent in pleasing the audience. The "militant" intentionalist, not a cheap dig, by any means, would say, "that was funny not because his name rhymes with Adam Sandler, that was funny because the joke, which was intended as a bait-and-switch routine, was funny."
For clarification, I believe that, in our case, intentionality doesn't rob the art of beauty, transcendence. And it certainly does not rob the perceiver of having any number of emotional responses to the art. All it means is that it is a crucial part of maximising one's enjoyment to try and see what the artist intended, if there is such an intention to be gained. If not, or if it's hopeless, so be it. Again, somewhere waaaay back there, I (mis)quoted Calvino regarding the issue of interpretation of intent--but I think that there's quite a lot of value to that statement.
As one last analogy, which I'm sure I'll be blasted for, I offer up this sacrificial lamb. Art has structure, or has developed certain structures, rigid or no, in many of the ways in which we communicate. To me, not to try to understand the context of the art, which includes the period in which it's made, what trends influence it, etc.--which all assumes something on the part of the creator, mind you--is like reading poem in Swahili without speaking the language. Sure you could claim that you understood some emotional valence, and perhaps you have a valid claim, but could you delineate the difference between a poem of love and a poem of sorrow just from the characters? How much richer would it be to read it understanding the language? And before everyone starts doing the slamdance with my noggin, I mean this obviously as a metaphor, but one that works in that one who doesn't understand sonata form or Western harmony, may miss out on a great deal of what makes a classical piece great, leaving a far less rich experience. That doesn't mean that we can always avail ourselves the tools to understand fully, nor does it mean that full understanding is more valid, but it does mean that having the attempt allows one to make that critical judgment far more easily.
And further, I think that both sides are starting to melt, as I didn't recall any notice of recidivism back into gray until somewhere past the middle of this thread, where I started to notice some poster (I don't remember which,) now saying that there was never any doubt that the author's intention is there. I have no idea what that means if it means that we can still disregard it, but that's at least some sort of mutation.
― Mickey Black Eyes, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― Mitch Lastnamewithheld, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
Ned, I agree.
There's a big leap from "Death of the Album" to "Death of the Artist". Even in the forthcoming album-free cyber-future, RealJukebox will still allow us to sort our MP3's by Artist.
This is an important corrective to all kinds of other talk - but still it's not altogether true. 'Artists' of various kinds (certainly pop songwriters, maybe other 'artists' too) can have all kinds of intention which just don't quite come off. Part of the reality of creativity is about that kind of PRODUCTIVE FAILURE. You don't make quite what you wanted, but maybe you make something else. Intention is real (we agree) but confused and multiple (we agree); indeed its confusion may be one reason why it's so hard to 'realize' it every time.
― the pinefox, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
(I perhaps unfairly then took your post to be discounting the worth of experiential writing about art in general, and maybe got a bit more aggressive afterwards.)
― Tracer hand, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
Yes the polarities on this thread have dissolved a bit, which is good. However:
i. I think you're still walking right into the trap in my comedian story. ii. I still find the idea of an artist who is UNexcited by the UNEXPECTED stuff his/her work does on contact with someone else's head really a bit odd and unlikely. Such ppl should be in another profession: journalism maybe. iii. And you still don't get — well, anyway, haven't stated — the POINT of the joke in the Duchamp urinal thing. (It's not funny if I explain it so I'm not going to...) iv. The Adorno bomb would have been a bomb in this thread whoever said it, even J.Mascis.
In comparison the world of pop (by which I mean broadly rock, pop, dance etc.) not only accepts but venerates artists who have *small* record collections, imperfect musical abilities, little knowledge of their own broader context or indeed what they might themselves be doing. You can still speak of the artist's intention in this situation, but to suggest that a listener requires more knowledge or understanding than the artist necessarily requires in order to enjoy the music 'properly' glosses over a rather large inconsistency.
On the appreciation of the ouevre question, I would have thought this at least was easy: I have Dylan Album A, which I recognise by the voice, the lyrics, the type of songs and not least of all the name of the artist on the front cover. I have Dylan Album B, whose artist name is identical to Dylan Album A, but whose title is different, whose voice is slightly different, whose type of songs may well be very different. I compare and contrast. I talk about which one means more to me. I talk about why I think this might be. I even might venture so far as to say which I think is 'better'. I don't need to read a Dylan interview to do any of this, but in not taking into account his intentions nor did I have to destroy his ouevre, namely because his ouevre exists to the extent that I place all my (hypothetical) Dylan albums together on the shelf.
Also an issue here is the essentially anonymous nature of the presentation of much music - how does one factor in the artist's *true* intention when listening to music in a club?
― Tim, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― reclusive genius, Tuesday, 19 March 2002 01:00 (twenty-three years ago)
to be honest i think this can be another blind, tho: yes it's kind of a pretextual pathway, for why this choice rather than that — the Necessity of the Material blah blah — but it's also because that's the way to run 20 times round the garden w/o thinking of the silver fox, you're focussed on something local and practical and under-the-fingers real, and that frees up your intuition, yr unconscious, your HIDDEN intention (eg hidden from you, for the listeners to discover).
Yes -- but we don't *have* to, see.
2. Because the intent may be too complex, esoteric, personal, eldridge for anyone else to grasp.
3. Because thre may be more than one intent, and these may even be working at cross-purposes.
Well, you did ask. I think all of this is interesting material in its own right and well worth a critical delve, whatever Derrida or his mates might want to say. I do, however, think that 1. could be a bit of a problem for the critic, especially if s/he doesn't think such a state is possible.
― andy rantzen, Wednesday, 12 June 2002 00:00 (twenty-three years ago)
Nietzsche, Derrida, Barthes, Susan Howe - a lot of their writing goes against the (supposed) modernist emphasis on the 'work in itself' or the 'work as a unity' and makes the explicit political point that the text in itself doesn't exist but is a product of society, the author's personal problems and intentions, the reader's personal problems and intentions. I guess the 'death of the author' is supposed to be interpreted as 'the death of an omniscient author.' They're basically saying 'what we need is a great big melting pot' only they're a bit shy.
― maryann, Friday, 14 June 2002 00:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― dave q, Friday, 14 June 2002 00:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― mark s, Friday, 14 June 2002 00:00 (twenty-three years ago)
― Mark (MarkR), Friday, 11 March 2005 16:41 (twenty years ago)
pretty simple question, when you get down to it.
― xhuxk, Friday, 11 March 2005 17:08 (twenty years ago)