Genealogy and Ontology of the Western Image and its Digital Future

John Lechte

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2012
• Print ISBN: 9780415887151
• eBook ISBN: 9781136329821
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Art
• Subtopic: Art Theory & Criticism

With the emerging dominance of digital technology, the time is ripe to reconsider the nature of the image. Some say that there is no longer a phenomenal image, only disembodied information (0-1) waiting to be configured. For photography, this implies that a faith in the principle of an "evidential force" – of the impossibility of doubting that the subject was before the lens – is no longer plausible. Technologically speaking, we have arrived at a point where the manipulation of the image is an ever-present possibility, when once it was difficult, if not impossible.

What are the key moments in the genealogy of the Western image which might illuminate the present status of the image? And what exactly is the situation to which we have arrived as far as the image is concerned? These are the questions guiding the reflections in this book. In it we move, in Part 1, from a study of the Greek to the Byzantine image, from the Renaissance image and the image in the Enlightenment to the image as it emerges in the Industrial Revolution.

Part 2 examines key aspects of the image today, such as the digital and the cinema image, as well as the work of philosophers of the image, including: Roland Barthes, Walter Benjamin, Gilles Deleuze, Jean-Paul Sartre and Bernard Stiegler.

Part I

Genealogy and Ontology (Paradigms)

This section situates the image in terms of the key philosophies or paradigms of the image as these have emerged in the genealogy of Western culture, as this has been outlined in the Introduction. The aim is to present an evolution of the understanding and relationship to the image which does justice to the complexities involved but at the same time remains within a culturally familiar context.

1 The Image in Plato and the Greek World

PART 1

INTRODUCTION

The theme of this chapter is the relationship between eidos (outward form or look or idea), eikôn (image or likeness), eidôlon (image, double or simulacrum¹), phantasia (appearance) and phantasma (semblance, apparition linked to aisthesis as perception or sensation) as these are found in the context of classical Greek thought and culture. Each term needs to be fully outlined and explained. The task, however, is not easy. For, there are various renderings given in the literature for each of the Greek terms in question, particularly as concerns the meaning of eidôlon. Scholars such as Jean-Pierre Vernant see it as evolving—initially, in Homer (c.850 BC)—from the equivalent of an apparition, effigy or ghost, to the time of Plato (c.427–347), where it becomes a false image, equivalent to what is currently understood as a simulacrum. Others, such as Heidegger and Notomi, place emphasis (albeit in different ways) on phantasia (see Heidegger 1991b, vol 3, 29 and Notomi 1999, passim) as the ‘coming to the fore’ or ‘coming to presence’ of the thing, or as appearance. In keeping with a Heideggerian position, as the very term ‘image’ is of Latin origin it thus may not have any direct genealogical link to Greek thought at all. Most notably this would be so with respect to the role of perception and subjectivity. To the extent that there is a detailed analysis and philosophy of the image in modern accounts, they almost invariably give precedence to the perceiving subject (cf. Aumont 1994, 5–53) or the observer (cf. Crary 1992). There is little sense of the image’s independence. This, for Heidegger, signals the influence of subjectivism—a subjectivism that works to preclude the possibility of an understanding of the image other than via the qualities of the perceiving and imagining subject. In this sense, the ghost in Hamlet could not be interpreted in any other way than as a mark of Hamlet’s incipient and actual madness. It is as though, Heidegger suggests, the Greek mode of thinking, which is yet to privilege an ‘I-subject’, had been covered over—buried—and thus cut off from modern attempts to come to grips with the image.

Jean-Pierre Vernant has argued that not only did the Greeks not have a conception of the image prior to Plato, but they had no notion of the figurative either. Neither ‘eidôlon: a double, wholly resembling a real being, but one that is empty, inconstant, ungraspable, and lacking in presence even as are the ghosts of the dead, in exile in the world beyond’ (Vernant 2011, 407), ‘nor, of course, eikôn (a later term for image)’ (416) existed in early Greek—and maybe later Greek culture, if it is compared to the modern European version. More broadly: changes occur regarding the status of the image between the eighth (Homer) and fourth (Plato) centuries, ‘ending up, with Plato, in a general theory composed of all forms of eidôla, whether it be a question of eikôna or phantasmata (faux-semblants) produced by the same “mimetic” activity, fabricating a world of illusions through its capacity to simulate, like a play of mirrors, external appearances of everything visible that exists in the universe’ (Vernant 1996, 390–391). Subsequently, too, according to Vernant, in the fourth century, eikôn ‘designates the representational image in its materiality (e.g. a statue)’ (Vernant 1991, 179). In terms of knowledge, Plato does not rate such images very highly (179).

Vernant acknowledges that the notion of the image undergoes, if not a transformation with Plato, as least a clear modification in meaning. It ceases to be an apparition or ‘double’ and begins to emerge in Plato’s framework of mimesis in the space in between being and non-being. Yet, this still puts the image on the side of phenomena ‘of the sensible world with its inconsistencies, contradictions, and relativities’ (Vernant 1991, 171). Most significantly, although images are located in ‘phantasia, derived from phainein (appear), [this] does not in any way signify the imagination as a faculty’ (173).

The question that immediately comes to mind, then, is: how can the study of Greek thought concerning the image be relevant to a post-Roman mode of thought for which the terms ‘image’ and ‘imago’ are the only ones available for attempting to do justice to the way things appear in the world? In other words, how can Greek thought be relevant to an understanding of the genealogy and ontology of the Western image? My response is largely a pragmatic one. Firstly, Greek thought—especially that of Plato and Aristotle—is part of the current conception of the image, even if this is a misconstrued conception. It is therefore necessary to address the nature of the Greek image and that is what we shall do here. In Vernant’s summing up: ‘The Platonic interpretation of the image and the theory of mimēsis on which it rests mark a stage in what might be called the elaboration of the category of the image in Western thought’ (Vernant 1991, 174). Vernant, however, qualifies this by stressing that ‘these ideas must be situated in their context, restored to that history of archaic Greek culture of which Plato is both the destroyer and the heir’ (1991, 174). Plato’s thinking on the image captures, says Vernant, its ambivalence. For if it is an object, its being is very different from that of other objects in that it is also possessed of transparency whereby it becomes the passage to its model or prototype. This is why it will seem to be an instance of ‘non-being’. On the other hand, it apparently exists in its own right (cf. the statue), in which case its being is like that of other objects. From Plato onward the image remains caught in this dilemma.

Secondly, as a guiding principle for the thinking outlined in the following pages is to avoid being beholden to a certain privileging of perception and subjectivity in relation to the image unless this is justified (that is, subjectivism is to be avoided), it is entirely appropriate to address the Greek conception of the image, as revealed in key texts² and aspects of existing scholarship on this theme.³

Finally, it is important to heed the argument against what Richard Neer calls Vernant’s (but others can be included) historicism—the idea that that there is little commonality between ancient Greek thought and culture regarding the image and what is understood as the image today. As Neer puts it:

So the question is: what will count as experiencing something as a ‘figural representation’ or an image? The question is one of criteria, and it holds the key to our understanding not just of Vernant but of the problem he raises: the problem of radical historicism in the history of art. How can we know what people saw, hence what counted as a figural representation (or as an image) in the Greek form of life? What will count as proof of our claims in this regard? (Neer 2010, 187)

Our author concludes that, against ‘radical historicism’, there is a quasi-immediate intelligibility as far as the ‘artefacts’ of Greek culture are concerned, even though it is also important to recognise, along with Vernant, that it is important not to assume that current conceptions of the image are immediately applicable to the Greek context. Thus, the goal ‘is not to minimize the strangeness of the Greeks or to deny their historical specificity but to insist upon the evidentiary priority of the visual, of the critic’s eye, in the very recognition of that strangeness’ (Neer 2010, 194). In effect, Neer is suggesting that the differences between Greek and modern approaches to art and the image are subtle rather than radical. And, we could add, the assumption of a radical difference would be self-defeating as it would compromise the possibility of ever being in communication with the Greek past.

Plato and the Image

To illuminate the nature of the image, the concept of reality and truth in Plato is to be outlined. Despite Plato’s idealist tendency manifest in the theory of Forms, we know that, in the Republic and elsewhere, Socrates is in search of the real. True knowledge can only be a knowledge of what is real (this is what separates it from belief) and, in this regard, no image, representation, or craftsman’s object can even approximate reality as what is real. The dreamer believes, Socrates says (Republic 476c), and has to do with semblances or appearances only, while the genuine knower has the ability to see. To see, therefore, enters into the conceptual canon of Western philosophy. ‘To see’, then, is not to engage with a semblance or with an imitation of reality; it is instead equivalent to an engagement with the truth itself, quite separately from the division between subject and object that has been the source of so much debate. To see is to see truly, for it is to see the truth itself as true reality. Less important for us than a close reading of Plato’s text, though, is the fact that through Plato’s terminology, we are able to provide the clearest version of the difference between the image and the simulacrum. If an image has an essential connection with an original entity, the simulacrum is an image cut off from any other entity.

Philosophers are thus those with very good eyesight. But the metaphor is misleading. For it is by no means clear that seeing is the attribute, or predicate, of a subject. Given that the issue of a subject-object relation is of very recent date, we must be cautious when approaching the issues of seeing and knowledge in Plato’s world. As a result, we misunderstand the nature of appearance here if we assume that it is essentially subjective.

Nevertheless, reading the Republic, the Cratylus or the Sophist gives us the sense that only seeing can lead to a knowledge of reality. Reality is not accessible to belief or to phantasy as appearance. In this context we recall that phantasia is also ‘appearance’ and derives from the Greek phainein (cf. Vernant 1991, 173). The image, too, is a form of appearance. If we accept Heidegger’s view, it is a form of appearance that can give access to something essential: the thing itself. The image as appearance could, then, be said to evoke otherness. Thus, Vernant writes that the image, defined by Plato as a ‘“second like object” and ‘being defined in some respects as the Same, also refers to the Other’ (1991, 168). By its similitude, the image is the same as its model; but it is also different from it. Were it to resemble its model in every respect, there would no longer be an image. It is on this point, then, that our engagement with the Platonic image is centred. Through Plato we can grasp the difference between the image and the simulacrum, and this will be necessary when coming to interpret Sartre’s notion of the image (see below, Chapter Six). Overall, the importance for current understandings of Plato’s and the Greek approach to the image will be evaluated.

The Image as Image

If, as others have shown (cf. Krell 1990, 28–50.), Plato sets the scene for theorising the image, it is because he begins to outline what is at stake in the effort to grasp the image as image.

We have said, then, that, for Plato, to see is to see truly, for it is to see the truth itself as true reality. However, it is by no means clear that seeing for Plato is the attribute, or predicate, of a subject. Given, as we have also already noted, that the issue of a subject-object relation is of recent date, it is necessary to be cautious when approaching the issues of seeing and knowledge in Plato’s world. Heidegger’s philosophy serves to reinforce this idea. We would be equally rushing to judgment in assuming that appearance and what appears necessarily involves a subject. As a result, we misunderstand the nature of appearance if we assume that it is essentially subjective. We shall return to this point.

Reality, we now understand, is not accessible to belief or to phantasy as appearance. And, we recall, phantasia is ‘appearance’ (but is also translated after Aristotle as imagination) and derives from the Greek phainein (meaning to show/manifest, to bring to light). Consequently, the image is another form of appearance. The image is eidôlon, and evokes a version of the ‘idea’ of model. This is why Heidegger is so intrigued by the possible connection between appearance and idea, and thence between idea and the appearance of being (Heidegger 1996, 25–26; 28–30⁴). Appearance can equally be the appearance, or ‘self-showing’, of the thing, or appearance as ‘semblance’ or ‘mere appearance’(Heidegger 1996, 27).

Of course, it is clear that if the image resembled its model in every respect, we could no longer speak of an image. Socrates illustrates the point, by showing that an image of Cratylus which became identical with the real Cratylus would entail that there were two Cratyluses, in lieu of a real Cratylus and his image. (Cratylus 432a8–d) On this basis, Derrida is able to give the following commentary emphasizing the importance of the difference between imitation and prototype:

Imitation does not correspond to its essence, is not what it is—imitation—unless it is in some way at fault or rather in default. It is bad by nature. It is good insofar as it is bad. Since (de)fault is inscribed within it, it has no nature; nothing properly its own. Ambivalent, playing with itself by hollowing itself out, good and evil at once—undecidably, mimēsis is akin to the pharmakon. No ‘logic’, no ‘dialectic’ can consume its reserve even though each must endlessly draw on it and seek reassurance through it. (Derrida 1981a, 139)

If the image is not to be a thing, the way Derrida describes imitation (for the image is the vehicle of imitation) must pertain. This is so, even if Plato often speaks as though the transparency of image/imitation is almost evil.⁵

Vernant also adds the following observations: that the notion of mimēsis—sketched out by Xenophon at the beginning of the fourth century BC, and elaborated in a systematic way by Plato—‘marked the moment when, in Greek culture, a version was perfected which led from a “presentification” of the invisible to an imitation of appearance’ (Vernant 1996, 361). Moreover, we recall that the idea of the eikôn (likeness) in clear distinction from the eidôlon only emerges in the fifth century (1996, 386). Finally, only the eidôlon was truly destined for visibility. But this was not a visibility that lent itself to the term ‘image’. Rather, the terms ‘phantom’, ‘dream’ and ‘double’ (1996, 388) are more to the point—to the extent that an eidôlon could, in certain circumstances, evoke the supernatural, a dream or the soul of the dead person.

With Plato, things solidify and eidôlon tends to be seen uniquely as a copy of appearance. Thus, when, through the metaphor of the cave, as through the notion of intelligible knowledge exemplified by mathematical forms ‘lit by knowledge’, Plato equates truth and reality with a knowledge of ideal forms, or with an ideal model of the object, there is little choice but to conclude that the objects of today’s ‘real’, empirical and natural world—the craftsman’s bed, to take Plato’s own example—are of a lesser quality than are ideal objects. The metaphor of the cave only seems to confirm this. For when confronted with the shadows of reality on the wall of the cave ‘in every way such prisoners would deem reality to be nothing else than the shadows of the artificial objects’ (Republic 515b). The shadow on the cave wall is the shadow (index) of the material object which itself derives from the intelligible model God created. The model is true reality, or the prototype; the thing and the image of the thing are, in their own way, only semblances (eidôla).

So, as is now largely recognized, Plato reversed the current, colloquial understanding of the relationship between model, reality and image. In everyday parlance—and this despite cyberspace—the model is the product of the unreal world of semblances. The model may approximate reality to an astonishing degree; but it still only approximates it. Material reality—let us say in the form of the real object—itself is the bench-mark against which the truth, or plausibility, of the model is to be judged. In Plato’s world, by contrast, the material aspect is judged in relation to the ideal (real) aspect. In both cases, however, it is notable that there is a relationship between the two domains. We are yet to reach the image as simulacrum which stands alone. And so, in the former case just mentioned, the model approximates the material object, while in the latter case, the material object approximates the model. So even when Socrates says in the Republic that the craftsman who produces a material object is an ‘image-maker’, a ‘represe...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• List of Figures
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction: ‘Genealogy’, ‘Ontology’, ‘Western Image’ and the ‘Digital’
• PART I. Genealogy and Ontology (Paradigms)
• PART II. The Image in Photography and Cinema and its Digital Future
• Notes
• References
• Index