Point of Impact: An Observation on Approaching Art in Opposition to Ideologies That Seek to Define It

 

The perspective that engaged intellectuals had on music during the era of communism and the Soviet Union now appears notoriously archaic.

Their judgments on musical aesthetics—such as those of Adorno, for example—condemned bourgeois taste and sought to establish methods for constructing an aesthetic by abolishing individual choice in favor of mass control. Ironically, despite their opposition to fascism, these intellectuals adopted a distinctly fascist approach themselves.

Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony, known as the "Symphony of Retraction," and Adorno’s analysis of Benjamin Britten’s works are two typical examples of this ideological imposition. On one side, we have the German ideological mentor of the West, Adorno; on the other, the Russian composer who, in order to survive under Stalin’s regime, had to compose his symphony in accordance with the Party’s demands.

Why "Point of Impact"? Because art, by its very nature, operates outside mass ideologies and aligns solely with the will of the artist. In other words, "official art" is a deception—a form of prostitution in which the client (whether the State or corporate entities) imposes a set of criteria and a prescribed path to follow, whether by adhering strictly to tradition or by subtly enforcing an “avant-garde” stance.

As Luciano Berio aptly put it:
"For this reason, every significant work can be seen as the expression of a doubt, an experimental step in a poetic process, an acknowledgment of the continuous need to modify, reinterpret, verify, and forever renounce the comfortable utopia of a super-code that would ensure flawless communication."
Meditation on a Twelve-Tone Horse, in Revue Contrechamps No. 1

Literature and the Arts in the Age of Scientification – A New Proposal for a New Humanism

"Science is coarse, and life is subtle. Literature exists to bridge this gap." (Roland Barthes)

  • Where did this formalization of the arts begin?
  • Where did the inclusion of the arts in schools following the same models as scientific schools originate?
  • Where did the segregation and isolation of independent and self-taught artists start?

These questions must be answered from a new perspective, under a new paradigm, free from academic orthodoxy. This is because, within the university environment, there are two distinct poles: the exact sciences and the humanities. Academic literature, integrated into university language and literature departments, belongs to the latter. However, literary art—artistic literature—differs from this. This form of literature should have its own designation and institutional support, free from the requirements imposed by universities and official academies—without formalizations, taxonomies, credits, or statistics.

A free and independent literature, one that does not need to justify itself to be recognized. A literature independent of the obligation to demonstrate empirical evidence. The need to impose labels and rules does not align with literary creation. Just as there is a difference between art history, as taught in universities, and art as a practiced craft, there should also be a distinction between artistic literature and literature integrated into academic curricula with its required credentials and formal training.

There should be an artistic literature where what prevails—beyond the act of writing—is the biography of its authors rather than the curriculum vitae, which is nothing more than a chronological list of achievements and titles. CVs, with their infallible formats, serve the purpose of gaining entry into prestigious institutions or obtaining research credits. But this has little relevance to an artistic field where life and social circumstances are at the center of inquiry. Literature consists of human theses, imbued with scents and flavors.

Biographies, which have been banished from the academic sphere, should be reinstated within the artistic realm. Encounters in bars between writers and painters, love affairs, heartbreaks, and travels should return to literary accounts as meaningful insights into the lives of writers and artists. The life stories of artists—encompassing spaces, salons, streets, and gardens—can contribute significantly to the historiography of a city or a country, serving as the natural extension of their art, the shadow that follows their steps.

At first glance, this proposal may seem grandiose, as biographies have been removed from academic curricula on the grounds that it is superfluous to recount what cannot be proven or justified. After all, science thrives on proof. But art does not. Art thrives on inventiveness, the unexpected, displacement, emotions, and all that is surprising. Nothing is uniform or moves toward a singular goal. It is the diversity of styles and individual approaches that shape the "becoming" of writers and artists.

Unlike the curriculum vitae, where cleanliness, proof, and precision are the standard forms of information, biographies speak of lives, encounters, circumstances, eras, and human beings.