《广告传播理论与实践》课程教学课件（讲稿）John Berger’s Ways of Seeing.pdf

notice how tha-faculty of touch is like e static, limited form ofTHEKEY OFDREAMS BY.MAGRITTE1898196sight.) We never loak at just one thing; we are always lookingat tne relation between things and aursalves. Our vision iscontinually active, contiouaily moving, continually holdingthings in a circle around itsolf, constituting what is presentto us as we are.Soon after we can see, we are aware that we canalsa be seen. Tha eye of the other combines with our own eyeto make it fully credible that we are part of the visible worid.If we accept that we can see that hill over there,we propose that from thathill we con ba seen.The reciprocalnatura of vision is more fundamantal than thot of spokendialogue. And often dialogue is an attempt to verbalize this -an attempt to axplainhow,either metaphorically orliterally'you see things', and an attempt to discover how "he seesthings'.In the sense in which we use the word in thisbook,all images are man-made.The way we see things is affected by what weknow or what we believe. In the Middle Ages when menbelieved inthe physical exietence of Hellthe sightof firemusthave meant something different from what it means today.Nevertheless their idea of Hell owed alot to the sight of fireconsuming and the ashes remaining -as wall as to theirexperienceof thepalnofburns.When in love, the sight of the beloved has acompletenass which no words and no embrace can match:a completeness which onfy theactof making lovecantemporarilyeccammodate.Yet this seeing which comes before words, andcan never be quite covered by them, is not a question ofmechanically reacting to stimuli.(it can only be thought of inthis way if ane isolates the small part of the pracess whichconcerns the eya's retina.) We anly see what we look at. Tolook is an act af cholca. As a result of this act, what we see isbrought within our reach-though not necessarily withinAn image is a sight which hasarm's reach.To touch something ls to situate oneself inbeen recreated or reproduced. It is an appearance, or a set ofrelation to it. (Close your eyes, move round the room andappearances,which has beendetached fromthe placeand time89

The way we see things is affected by what we kr~ow or what we believe. In the IVtlddle Ages when men believed in the physical existence of Hell the sight of fire must have meant something different from what it means today. Naverthe|ass their idea of Hell owed a lot to the sight of fire consuming and the ashes remaining - as well as to their experience of the pain of burns. When in love, the sight of the beloved has a completeness which no words and no embrace can match : a completeness which only the act of making love can temporari|y accommodate. Vet this seeing which comas before words, and can never be quite covered by them, is not a question of mechanically reacting to stimuli. (It can only be thought of in this way if one isolates the small part of the process which concerns the eye’s retina.) We only see what we look at. To look is an act of choice. As a result of this act, what we see is brought within our reach - though not necessarily within arm’s reach. To touch something is to situate oneself in relation to it. (Close your eyes, move round the room and notice how the.faculty of touch is like a static, limited form of sight.) We never look at just one thing; we are always looking at ~e relation between things and ourselves. Our vision is continually active, continually moving, continually holding thiugs in a circle around itaalf, constituting what is present Soon after we can see, we are aware that we can also be seen. The eye of the other combines with our own aye to make it fully credible that we are p~ of the visible world. ~f we ac~pp~ that we can see ~ha~ hil~ over there, we propose ~hat from that hiBI we can be seen. The reciprocal ~ature o~ vision is more fundamen~l than that of spoken ~ialogue. And often dialogue is an a~empt to verbalize this - an attempt to explain how, either metaphorically or literally, ’you see things’, and an attempt to discover how "he sees ~hings’. in the sense in which we use the word in this book, a~l images are man-made. An image is a sight which has been recreated or reproduced, it is an appearance, or a set of appearances, which has been detached from the place and time

Yet when an image is presented as a work of art,inwhich itfirst madeits appearance andpreserved-forafewthe way people look at it is affected by a whole series of learntmoments or a few centuries. Every image emhodies a wayofassumptions about art.Assumptions concerning:seeing.Even a photograph.Forphotographs are not, as isoften assumed, a mechanical record. Every time we look at aBeautyphotograph, we are aware, however slightly, of theTruthphotographer selecting that sight from an infinity of otherGeniuspossible sights. This is true even in the most casual familyCivilizationsnapshot. The photographer's way of seeing is roflected in hisFormchoice of subject. The painter's way of seeing is reconstitutedStatusPby the marks he makes on the canvas or paper. Yet, althoughTaste,etc.overy image embodies a way of seeing, our perception orappreciation of an image depends also upon our own way ofMany of these assumptions no longer accord withseeing.(lt may be, for example, that Sheila is one figure amongthe world as it is. (The world-as-it-is is more than puretwenty; but for our own reasons she is the one we have eyesobjective fact, it includes consciousness.) Out of true with thefor.)present, these assumptions obscure the past. They mystifyrather thon clarify. The past is never there waiting to bediscovered, to be recognized for exactly what it is. Historyalways constitutes the relation between a present and its pastConsequently fear of the present leads to mystification of thepast. The past is not for living in; it is a well of conclusionsImages were first made to conjure upthefrom which we draw in order to act. Cultural mystification ofappearances of something that was absent.Graduallyitthe past entails a double loss. Works of art are madehecame evident that on image could outlost what itunnecessarily remote. And the past offers us fewerrepresented; it then showed how something or somebody hadconclusions to complete in action.once looked -and thus hy implication how the subject hadWhen we 'see'a landscape, we situate ourselvesonce been seen by other people. Later still the specific vision6in it. If we 'saw' the art of the past, we would situateof the image-maker was also recognized as part of the recordpuoourselves in history. When we are prevented from seeing it,An image became a record of howX had seenY.This was thewe are being deprived of the history which helongs to us.result of en increasing consciousness of individuality.Who benefits from this deprivation? In the end, the art of theaccompanying an increasing awarenessof history.Itwouldbepast is being mystified because a privileged minority isrash to try to date this last development precisely. Butastriving to invent a history which can retrospectively justifyCertainly in Europe such consciousness has existed sioce the2the role of the ruling classes, and such a justification canbeginning of the Renaissance.no longer make sense in modern terms. And so, inevitably, itNo otherkind of relic or text fromthe past canRmystifies.offer such a direct testimony about the world which5surrounded other people at other times. In this respectnowLetus consider atypical example of suchimoges are more precise and richer than literature. To soy thismystification. A two-volume study was recently published onis not to deny the expressive or imaginative quality of art,Frans Hals.'It is the authoritative work to date on this painter.treating it as mere documentary evidence; the more imaginativeAs a book of specialized art history it is no better and nothe work, the more profoundly it allows us to share theworse than the average.artist's axperience of the visible.1110

in which it first made its appearance and preserved - for a few moments or a few centuries. Every image embodies a way of seeing. Even a photograph. For photographs are not, as is often assumed, a mechanical record. Every time we look at a photograph, we are aware, however slightly, of the photographer selecting that sight from an infinity of other possible sights. This is true even in the most casual family snapshot. The photographer’s way of seeing is reflected in his choice of subject. The painter’s way of seeing is reconstituted by the marks he makes on the canvas or paper. Yet, although every image embodies a way of seeing, our perception or appreciation of an image depends also upon our own way of seeing. (it may be, for example, that Sheila is one figure among twenty; but for our own reasons she is the one we have eyes for.) Images were first made to conjure up the appearances of something that was absent. Gradually it became evident that an image could outlast what it represented; it then showed how something or somebody had once looked ~ and thus by implication how the subject had once been seen by other people. Later still the specific vision of the image-maker was also recognized as part of the record. An image became a record of how X had seen Y. This was the result of an increasing consciousness of individuality, accompanying an increasing awareness of history. It would be rash to try to date this last development precisely. But certainly in Europe such consciousness has existed since the beginning of the Renaissance. No other kind of relic or text from the past can offer such a direct testimony about the world which surrounded other people at other times. In this respect images are more precise and richer than literature. To say this is not to deny the expressive or imaginative quality of art, treating it as mere documentary evidence; the more imaginative the work, the more profoundly it allows us to share the artist’s experience of the visible. Yet when an image is presented as a work of art, the way people look at it is affected by a whole series of learnt assumptions about art. Assumptions concerning: Beauty Truth Genius Civilization Form Status ~ Taste, etc. Many of these assumptions no longer accord with the world as it is. (The world-as-it-is is more than pure objective fact, it includes consciousness.) Out of true with the present, these assumptions obscure the past. They mystify rather than clarify. The past is never there waiting to be discovered, to be recognized for exactly what it is. History always constitutes the relation between a present and its past. Consequently fear of the present leads to mystification of the past. The past is not for living in; it is a well of conclusions from which we draw in order to act. Cultural mystification of ’~he past entails a double loss. Works of art are made unnecessarily remote. And the past offers us fewer conclusions to complete in action. When we "see" a landscape, we situate ourselves in it. If we "saw’ the art of the past, we would situate ourselves in history. When we are prevented from seeing it, we are being deprived of the history which belongs to us. Who benefits from this deprivation ? In the end, the art of the past is being mystified because a privileged minority is striving to invent a history which can retrospectively justify the role of the ruling classes, and such a justification can no longer make sense in modern terms. And so, inevitably, it mystifies. Let us consider a typical example of such mystification. A two-volume study was recently published on Frans Hals.* It is the authoritative work to date on this painter. As a book of specialized art history it is no better and no worse then the average

of over eighty, was destitute. Most of his life he had been inBYHATSISOTHEOLDMEN'SALMSHOUSEdebt. During the winter of 1664, tha year he began paintingthese pictures,he obtained three loads of peat on publiccharity, otherwise he would have frozen to death.Those whanow sat for him were administrators of such public charity.The author records these facta and then explicitlysays that it would be incorrect to read into the paintings anycriticism of the sitters. There is no evidence, he says, thatHals painted them in a spirit of bitterness. The authorconsiders them, howeuer, remarkable works of art andexplains why. Here he writes of the Regentesses:Eachwomanspeakstousofthehumanconditionwithequalimportance.Eachwomanstandsoutwithequalclarityagainsttheenormousdark surface,yettheyarelinkedbyafirmrhythmicalarrangementandthesubdueddiagonal pattem formedbytheirheadsand handsSubtlemodulationsofthedeep,glowingblackscontributeto the harmonious fusion of thewhole andBYGEALSES.GETHE OLD MEN'SALMS HOUSEformanunforgettablecontrastwiththepowerfuwhitesand vivid flesh tones where the detached strokes reachapeakofbreadthandstrength.(ouritalics)The compositional unity of e paintingcontributes fundamentally to the power of its image.It isreasonabletoconsiderapainting'scomposition.Butherethecomposition is written about as though it were initself theemotional charge of the painting.Terms like harmonious fusion,unforgettablecontrast,reachingapeakofbreadthandstrengthtransfer the emotion provoked by the image from the planeof lived experience,to that of disinterested 'artappreciation'.All conflict disappears. One is left with theunchanging'human condition',and thepainting considered asa marvellously made object.Very ilttleis known ahout Hals or the Regentswho cammissioned him, Itis notpossibleto producecircumstantialevidencetoestabllshwhattheirrelationswereThe last two great paintings by Frans Hals portrayBut there is the evidence of the paintings themselives: thethe Governors and theGovernessesofanAlms Houseforoldevidenceof agroup of men anda group af women as seen bypaupers in the Dutch seventeenth-century city of Hearlem.another man, the peinrter. Study this evidence and judge forTheywereofficialiy commissioned portraits,Hals,an oldmanyourself.1213

The last two great paintings by Frans Hals portray the Governors and the Governesses of an Aims House for old paupers in the Dutch seventeenth-century city of Haarlem. They were officially commissioned portraits. Hais, an old man of over eighty, was destitute. Most of his life he had been in debt. During the winter of 1664, the year he began painting these pictures, he obtained three loads of peat on public charity, otherwise he would have frozen to death. Those who now sat for him were administrators of such public charity. The author records these facts and then explicitly says that it would he incorrect to read into the paintings any criticism of the sitters. There is no evidence, he says, that Hale painted them in a spirit of bitterness. The author considers them, howe~er, remarkable works of art and explains why. Here be writes of the Regentesees: Each woman speaks to us of the human condition with equal importance. Each woman stands out with equal clarity against the enormous dark surface, yet they are linked by a firm rhythmical arrangement and the subdued diagonal pattern formed by their heads and hands. Subtle modulations of the deep, glowing blacks contribute to the harmonious fusion of the whole and form an unforgettab/e contrast with the powerfuJ whites and vivid flesh tones where the detached strokes reach a peak of breadth and strength. (our italics) The compositional unity of a painting contributes fundamentally to the power of its image, it is reasonable to consider a painting’s composition. But here the composition is written about as though it were in itself the emotional charge of the painting. Terms like harmonious fusion, unforgettable contrast, reaching a peak of breadth and strength transfer the emotion provoked by the image from the plane of lived experience, to that of disinterested ’art appreciation’. All conflict disappears. One is left with the unchanging "human condition’, and the painting considered as e ma~vellously made object. Very little is known about Hals or the Regents who commissioned him. It is not possible to produce circumstantial evidence to establish what their relations were. But there is the evidence of the paintings themselves: the evidence of e group of men and a group of women as seen by another man, the painter. Study this evidence and judge for yourself. 12 13