The Psycho-Analysis Of Artistic Vision And Hearing

An Introduction to a Theory of Unconscious Perception

Anton Ehrenzweig

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781136305207
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Medicine
• Subtopic: Health Care Delivery

This book deals with the inarticulate form elements hidden in the unconscious structure of a work of art or—what comes to the same thing — with the unconscious structure of the perception processes by which we actively create or passively enjoy these unconscious form elements. In order to become aware of inarticulate forms we have to adopt a mental attitude not dissimilar to that which the psycho-analyst must adopt when dealing with unconscious material, namely some kind of diffuse attention.

FIRST PART

The Depth Psychology of (Abstract) Gestalt Perception

I

The ‘Psychologist’s Fallacy’ in the Observation of Inarticulate Perceptions

WILLIAM JAMES, Sigmund Freud, and recently the Gestalt Theory, independently of each other, drew attention to the articulating tendency active within our (surface) perception.

We tend for the most part to notice simple, compact, precise forms, at the same time eliminating vague, incoherent, inarticulate forms from our perception.

The Gestalt Theory has made a thorough study of these tendencies. It calls the articulating tendency the gestalt tendency; the articulate form (gestalt) which we tend to perceive, possesses form properties of simplicity, compactness, coherence, etc. which add up into an aesthetically ‘good’ gestalt.¹ The Gestalt Theory, while studying the selected gestalt in great detail, pays little attention to the fate of those inarticulate form elements which are excluded from the gestalt. A depth psychology of perception has to make good this neglect. Freud, who also noticed the articulating tendency of our observing mind, found that form experiences coming from lower layers of the mind, like our dream visions, tended to be inarticulate; they appeared to our observing surface mind as altogether chaotic and were difficult to grasp.

Even before Freud, William James recognized the extent of this difficulty; he saw in the observing mind’s tendency to perceive only articulate form a serious epistemological limitation that barred direct insight into our inarticulate form experiences. We shall see that inarticulate form experiences either appear to be altogether empty, like ‘gaps’ or interruptions in the stream of consciousness, or else that they acquire, in retrospection, a too definite, too articulate structure. Unless we are on our guard we can easily mistake this distorted view of inarticulate forms for their original structure, thus committing what William James calls the ‘Psychologist’s Fallacy par excellence’.

It seems strange that in spite of William James’s emphatic warning and the undiminished prestige he enjoys as the greatest American psychologist of the last century, later psychologists should have ignored his warning whenever they came across the surface mind’s articulating tendency. The Gestalt Theory, by observing everywhere articulate gestalt (or gestalt in its nascence) and failing to give equal attention to inarticulate form experiences, committed the ‘Psychologist’s Fallacy’ almost as a matter of principle, yet went uncensored by followers of William James. Modern depth psychology may be able to explain this blind spot. Freud has shown that inarticulate form experiences are the messengers from the unconscious mind; our unwillingness to give them due attention may be connected with our general reluctance (‘resistance’) to acknowledge the rôle which the unconscious mind plays in our mental life. Throughout our coming investigation of inarticulate perceptions, we shall have to battle against the influence of the ‘Psychologist’s Fallacy’.

Psycho-analysis, though not fully aware of the philosophical implication of the observing surface mind’s articulating gestalt tendency, habitually adopts a certain attitude in dealing with unconscious material which, to a very great extent, neutralizes its harmful influence. Psycho-Analysis teaches us that in examining the form products of the unconscious mind—dreams and art would be such products—we have no right to neglect what seems, at first sight, to be an accidental and unrelated detail. Knowing this, the psycho-analyst is apt to reverse the commonsense attitude which pays attention to the obviously significant and coherent in the dream or in art, and will watch out for the seemingly fortuitous, unrelated and accidental detail; more likely than not it will conceal the most significant unconscious content.

Psycho-analysis has not so far applied this method to the structural analysis of art. But in aesthetic form analysis the reversal of our commonsense attitude is particularly useful. Art usually impresses us by its stringent order and closely knit interconnexion between forms which seem to leave nothing to chance. For this reason, as we shall see, the gestalt psychologists take art as the supreme manifestation of the human mind’s striving towards articulate gestalt. The depth psychologist, however, may be put on his guard by this all too obvious order. Could it not be that it served to deflect our conscious attention from such inarticulate form elements as those which contained the unconsciously significant symbolism? We know art to be as symbolic as the dream. But unlike the dream, which is formed while our surface functions are paralysed during sleep, art is created and enjoyed during the waking state. It is possible, therefore, that during artistic perception the surface mind (which is subject to the gestalt tendency) would function all the more vigorously in order to cover up the inarticulate symbolic forms by a ‘good’ gestalt.

From a depth-psychological viewpoint, current art psychologies pay too much attention to the obvious surface order of art and to its aesthetic appeal, and are thus prevented from appreciating the many inarticulate form phenomena falling outside art’s aesthetic superstructure. A truly depth-psychological analysis of art form must, by a determined effort, reverse the usual approach and look out for the seemingly accidental and insignificant detail in which the unconscious creative process of art can unfold itself safe from conscious observation. Such an analysis will turn away from the consciously ‘composed’ structure of painting and watch for the apparently abcidental scribbles hidden in the inarticulate forms of artistic ‘handwriting’. It will pay less attention to the articulate tone steps of a melody moving in a measurable rhythm (as they are recorded by musical notation) than to the apparently accidental glissando and vibrato inflexions, or to the slight distortions of rhythm and intensity which defy musical notation and are left to the seemingly ‘arbitrary’ execution by the performer. There are many such inarticulate form elements which at first sight would appear inaccessible to conscious analysis.

In the realm of harmonic music, at least, Arnold Schönberg, with his usual depth-psychological intuition, has corrected the current approach of harmonic theory which considers only the articulate consciously heard chords. Just as in a melody the inarticulate glissando- and vibrato - like inflexions are sandwiched between the articulate tone steps (we shall call them ‘transitive’ for this reason), so are there ‘transitive’ chords sandwiched between the articulate consonances and dissonances of the classical harmonic system. These seem to be fully explained by the necessity of a natural melodic transition from one articulate chord to the next. The polyphonic voices do not fall into a new articulate chord with every melodic step; hence they form ‘accidental’ chord combinations while they move on in the melodic transition in between. These fleeting chords do not catch our conscious attention and the traditional theory of harmony treats them as accidental ‘harmony-free’ products of the natural melodic movement between the articulate chords. Schönberg, almost disdainfully, brushes aside a theory which dares to discard parts of the polyphonic structure as insignificant or ‘accidental’. According to his view even the most fleeting chord combination is just as essential to the harmonic structure as are the more obvious striking form elements. He comes very near to a psycho-analytical approach by reversing the commonsense attitude; the creative process of forming new harmonic chords would take place just in those transitive and seemingly ‘accidental’ chords where new experiments in harmonic hearing can be carried out, safe from conscious detection. (We shall see that Schönberg’s intuitive theory is in accord with the general law of artistic articulation; new elements of the articulate form language of art would always be created unconsciously, hidden away in seemingly inarticulate insignificant details, and it is from there that conscious perception gradually draws them to the surface.)

FIG. 1. ‘Transitive’ chord.

Modern artists generally possess greater sensibility for the importance of inarticulate form; we shall explain this by the greater significance of the unconscious mind in modern art. Hence Sir Herbert Read, a pioneer of modern art in other fields, has developed artistic theories which come nearest to the views put forward here. He stresses the significance of metrical irregularities in modern poetry, and characteristically refers to Gerard Manley Hopkins’s views on the same subject (which are of course older than modern art) in order to demonstrate the validity of his theories for any kind of poetry, ancient or modern.¹

But it is not only the modern artist who knows of inarticulate form experiences; any act of creativeness in art or science knows such experiences whenever the creative consciousness reaches down into the deeper layers of the mind. (See about the smooth transition between traditional and modern art in Chapters II and XII.) It will become possible to demonstrate that any inarticulate form experiences, whether in the dream, day-dream, joke, creative vision, etc., emanate from the lower layers of the mind; they are produced whenever these lower layers are stimulated into action. We have already mentioned that the visions of the dream appear inarticulate (‘gestalt-free’ as we shall call them) because the deeper layers of the mind are stimulated while the surface functions are partly paralysed. Varendonck¹ proved that similar inarticulate, dream-like form experiences occurred also in other states of mind where similar shifts of consciousness take place. The alternation between waking and sleeping may involve a stronger and more lasting displacement of mental energy between the surface mind and the depth mind. But the waking consciousness, too, knows of shallower and quicker alternations that bring about the same result—a temporary advance of inarticulate, dream-like perceptions.

A series of gradual transitions leads from the slow cycle of waking and sleeping to the ‘double rhythm’ of the creative activity and from there to the rapid oscillations of everyday thinking and everyday perception. (We shall be led to the conclusion that these rhythmical displacements may be inherent in mental functioning.) Varendonck proceeded from the analysis of the dream to that of the day-dream (which is still nearer to the dream proper), and from there to the analysis of the creative state, the rhythm of which comes nearer to the oscillations of the everyday consciousness.

We saw that the first link in the series of transitions was the day-dream. A day-dream is easily ‘forgotten’, or appears as a mere ‘absence of mind’ once we have reverted from our inert phantasies to the ordinary rational tension of everyday consciousness. Both the ‘forgetting’ and the impression of an absence of mind’ are due to the inarticulate structure of the day-dream (see the following quotations from the writings of William James). To reconstruct a day-dreaming phantasy already past requires a particular gift for ‘looking inwards’ (i.e. introspectively) into one’s own inarticulate form experiences. Varendonck usually remembered its last portion and found that the remainder of, the day-dream would emerge in a reverse time order.² In Chapter VI (dealing with the articulations within the order of time) it will be shown how the gestalt function of the surface mind resists such a reversal of the time-order. It is likely that Varendonck’s method of recollection was part of his particular technique, which allowed him to reconstruct inarticulate experiences.

It seems to be a far cry from inert day-dreaming phantasies to the frequently turbulent visions of creative states. Varendonck’s chief merit is that he recognized their identical inarticulate structure. The reason for this identity is, of course, that in the creative state (as in day-dreaming) the functions of the depth mind are stimulated. But while the inert day-dream is static, the creative state is transitive (to use the expression which I have borrowed from William James); its tension strives to give a more articulate shape to the inarticulate creative vision which then crystallizes into a definite formative idea (Einfall). If, however, as in automatic painting, any definite conscious idea is suppressed, the creative state approaches the undisturbed calm of day-dreaming.¹

The creative state resembles the day-dream in the fact that it tends to be recollected later as a mere ‘absence of mind’ (gap, emptiness, interruption of consciousness). This again is due to the inarticulate structure common to them both which the surface mind cannot grasp. We cannot wonder, therefore, that psycho-analytical literature has tended to describe creative states as interruptions of consciousness.²

As in the observation of day-dreaming states, it needs a particular technique to resuscitate the memory of the inarticulate visions which filled the creative mind during the alleged lapse of consciousness; it may require a watchfulness comparable to the cool self-control which an actor has to exercise during the white heat of a near-hysterical outburst. Varendonck could sustain his watchfulness even in the twilight states between waking and sleeping, and so was capable of catching those fleeting visions which are otherwise irretrievably lost. (It is not impossible that a similar acuity in self-observation might be capable of penetrating through to the short ‘absence of mind’ before the invention of a new joke and discover there the same fluid medley of ambiguous images and ideas which we can extract—with difficulty—from the more protracted creative state of the artist.)

Varendonck pursued the series of transitions further towards the flickering moments of ambiguity which, as he assumes, are the initial stages of any perception (see Varendonck’s analysis of the two stages in the perception in Chapter XI). It is to William James, however, that we owe our ability of discerning, in the stream of everyday consciousness, recurring ‘transitive’ states of inarticulate form experiences which form the transitions between the well-defined ‘substantive’ contents of consciousness. Any formulation of a thought or of a sentence is preceded by an inarticulate ‘transitive’ anticipation.¹ William James asks his reader whether he has ever considered ‘what kind of mental fact is his intention of saying a thing before he has said it…. It is an entirely definite intention, distinct from all other intentions, an absolutely distinct state of consciousness, therefore; and yet how much of it consists of definite sensorial images, either of words or of things? Hardly anything! Linger, and the words and things come into the mind; the anticipatory intention, the divination is there no more. But as the words arrive, it welcomes them successively and calls them right if they agree with it, it rejects them and calls them wrong if they do not. It has therefore a nature of its own of the most positive sort, and yet what can we say about it without using words that belong to the later mental facts that replace it? The intention to-say-so-and-so is the only name it can receive.’ This is the other variety of the ‘Psychologist’s Fallacy’; one was to treat the anticipatory suspension of consciousness as a mere ‘absence of mind’, the other is to ‘retro-relate’ the later articulate formative idea back to the original inarticulate state. It is easier to observe this retro-relation in the double rhythm of creative thinking where the formative idea may emerge only after prolonged transitive tension. Once the thinker has captured and crystallized that elusive anticipation into a well-defined formulation, he will no longer realize how vague and inarticulate his first state of ‘divination’ really was. True, he may have laboured and doubted in his attempts to give it a definite shape, but as he has succeeded in his task he will wrongly maintain that the idea in its final form has been hovering in his mind all along, ‘only that he could not quite grasp it’ at the time. The same contention that a later articulate formulation has been present already in a primary inarticulate state ‘only that we could not quite grasp it at that time’, will be met also in other contexts.²

William James also has a word to say about the first variety of the ‘Psychologist’s Fallacy’—that which mistakes past inarticulate perceptions for an absence of mind or an interruption of consciousness. He deals with the search for a forgotten name which we vainly try to recall. Though the word to be recalled is not yet there, our consciousness is not merely empty. ‘The state of our consciousness is peculiar. There is a gap therein; but no mere gap. It is a gap that is intensely active. A sort of wraith of the name is in it, beckoning us in a given direction, making us at moments tingle with the sense of our closeness, and then letting us sink back without the longed-for term. If wrong names are proposed to us, this singularly definite gap acts immediately so as to negate them. They do not fit into its mould. And the gap of one word does not feel like the gap of another, all empty of content as both might seem necessarily to be when described as gaps…. We can only designate the difference by borrowing the names of objects not yet in mind’ (i.e. by retro-relating the later articulate perception back to the primary state of inarticulate suspension). ‘Which is to say that our psychological vocabulary is wholly inadequate to name the differences that exist, even such strong differences as these. But namelessness is compatible with existence. There are innum...