The Rudolf Steiner Archive

6. On the Truth and Probability of Works of Art

[ 1 ] There is an interesting essay by Goethe on this topic, written in the form of a conversation. In it, the question, “What kind of truth should one demand from a work of art?” is addressed in exhaustive detail. What is said there carries far more weight than volumes written on this subject in more recent times. Since there is currently both lively interest and great confusion surrounding this question, it seems appropriate here to recall the main ideas of Goethe’s dialogue.

[ 2 ] It takes its cue from the concept of “theater within a theater.” “An oval, somewhat amphitheater-like building was depicted in a German theater, with many spectators painted in its boxes, as if they were taking part in what was happening below. Some of the real spectators in the stalls and in the boxes were dissatisfied with this and took offense at the idea that someone would try to foist upon them something so untrue and implausible. On this occasion, a conversation took place, the approximate content of which is recorded here.”

[ 3 ] The conversation takes place between the artist’s advocate—who believes he has fulfilled his task by depicting the spectators—and a spectator for whom such painted spectators are insufficient, because he demands natural truth. This spectator wants “at least everything to appear true and real” to him. “Why, then, would the set designer go to the trouble of drawing every line with the utmost precision according to the rules of perspective, of painting every object in the most perfect pose? Why would one study the costumes? Why would one go to such great expense to remain faithful to them, in order thereby to transport me back to those times? Why is the actor most highly praised who expresses emotions most truthfully, who comes closest to the truth in speech, posture, and gestures, who deceives me into believing that I am seeing not an imitation, but the thing itself?”

[ 4 ] The artist’s advocate now draws the audience’s attention to the extent to which all of this does not entitle him to say that, in the theater, he need not have people and events presented to him in such a way that they seem true to him; rather, he must assert that at no moment does he have the sensation of seeing truth, but rather an appearance—albeit an appearance of the true.

[ 5 ] At first, the audience believes that the lawyer is playing a word game with them. Goethe then has the lawyer reply: “And I may assure you that, when we speak of the workings of our mind, no words are delicate or subtle enough, and that wordplay of this kind itself indicates a need of the mind which—since we cannot express directly what is going on within us—seeks to operate through opposites, to answer the question from two sides, and thus, as it were, to grasp the matter in the middle.”

[ 6 ] People who are accustomed only to living within the crude, simplistic mental images generated by everyday life often see the subtle conceptual distinctions—which must be made by anyone who wishes to grasp the delicate, infinitely complex relationships of reality—as unnecessary quibbling over words. It is true that words are excellent for arguing and for constructing a system, but it is not always the fault of the person constructing the system that a concept is not attached to the word. Often, it is simply that the listener cannot connect the concept to the words they hear. It often seems comical when people complain that they cannot form any ideas from the words of this or that philosopher. They always believe it is the philosopher’s fault, but often it is the readers who are unable to think for themselves, while the philosopher has thought deeply.

[ 7 ] There is a great difference between “appearing to be true” and “having the appearance of truth.” A theatrical performance is, of course, an illusion. One might hold the view that the illusion must take such a form that it simulates reality. Or one might be convinced that the illusion should honestly declare: I am not reality; I am an illusion. If the illusion possesses this honesty, then it cannot derive its laws from reality; it must have its own laws, which are not the same as those of reality. Anyone who wants an artistic illusion that mimics reality will say: in a theatrical performance, everything must unfold as it would have in reality if the same event had taken place. On the other hand, anyone who wants an artistic illusion that sincerely presents itself as an illusion will say: in a theatrical performance, some things must unfold differently than they usually do in reality; the laws governing dramatic events are different from those governing real ones.

[ 8 ] Anyone who holds such a conviction must therefore admit that in art there are laws governing the relationship between facts for which there is no corresponding model in nature. The imagination conveys such laws. It does not create in accordance with nature; rather, it creates a higher artistic truth alongside natural truth.

[ 9 ] This conviction leads Goethe to have the “Artist’s Advocate” speak. The latter asserts “that artistic truth and natural truth are entirely different, and that the artist should by no means strive—nor should he be allowed to strive—for his work to actually appear as a work of nature.”

[ 10 ] Only those artists who lack imagination—and who, as a result, are unable to create artistic truth but must borrow from nature if they are to produce anything at all—will seek to convey natural truth in their works. And only those viewers will demand natural truth in works of art who lack sufficient aesthetic culture to rise to the demand for a special artistic truth alongside natural truth. They know only the truth they experience every day. And when they encounter art, they ask: Does this artificial creation correspond to what we know as reality? The person with aesthetic culture knows a different kind of truth than that of ordinary reality. He seeks this other truth in art.

[ 11 ] Goethe has his “Defender of the Artist” illustrate the difference between a person with aesthetic culture and one without it using a very crude but excellent example. “A great naturalist had a monkey among his pets, which he once lost and, after a long search, found in the library. There the animal was sitting on the floor, having scattered the copperplate engravings from an unbound work on natural history all around itself. Amazed by this zealous study on the part of his pet, the gentleman approached and saw, to his astonishment and annoyance, that the greedy monkey had picked out and eaten all the beetles he had found illustrated here and there.”

[ 12 ] The monkey knows only real, natural beetles, and the way it behaves toward such real, natural beetles in everyday life is to eat them. In the illustrations, it is not reality but only an illusion that confronts him. He does not perceive the illusion as an illusion. For he could not form a relationship with an illusion. He perceives the illusion as reality and relates to it as he would to reality.

[ 13 ] In the case of this monkey, these are the people who treat artistic illusion as if it were reality. When they see a scene of robbery or a love scene on stage, they want exactly the same thing from that scene of robbery or love as they do from corresponding scenes in reality.

[ 14 ] In Goethe’s dialogue, the “spectator” is led, through the example of the monkey, to a purer understanding of artistic enjoyment and says: “Shouldn’t the uneducated lover, for this very reason, demand that a work of art be natural, so that he, too, may enjoy it in a natural, often crude and vulgar way?” - A work of art is meant to be enjoyed in a higher way than a work of nature. And whoever has not cultivated this higher form of enjoyment through aesthetic education is like the monkey that eats the painted beetles instead of observing them and acquiring scientific knowledge through their observation. The “Lawyer” puts it this way: “A perfect work of art is a work of the human spirit, and in this sense also a work of nature. But in that it unites disparate objects into one and incorporates even the most common ones in their significance and dignity, it transcends nature. It is meant to be apprehended by a spirit that has arisen and been formed harmoniously, and this spirit finds the excellence and the perfection within it to be in accordance with its own nature. The casual admirer has no concept of this; he treats a work of art like an object he encounters at the market: but the true admirer sees not only the truth of what is imitated, but also the merits of what has been selected, the ingenuity of the composition, the transcendent nature of the small world of art; he feels that he must elevate himself to the level of the artist in order to enjoy the work; he feels that he must gather himself from his distracted life, dwell with the work of art, view it repeatedly, and thereby grant himself a higher existence.”

[ 15 ] Art that strives merely for natural truth—a monkey-like imitation of common, everyday reality—is refuted the moment one senses within oneself the possibility of attaining the “higher existence” called for above. Ultimately, only each individual can sense this possibility within themselves. Therefore, there can be no general, convincing refutation of naturalism. Those who know only common, everyday reality will always remain naturalists. Those who discover within themselves the ability to see beyond the natural being to a distinct artistic being will perceive naturalism as the aesthetic worldview of artistically narrow-minded people.

[ 16 ] Once one has understood this, one will not fight naturalism with logical or other weapons. For such a struggle would be akin to trying to prove to a monkey that painted beetles are not meant to be eaten, but to be looked at. Even if one were to go so far as to make the monkey understand that it should not eat painted beetles, there is one thing it would never grasp: namely, what painted beetles are for, since one is not allowed to eat them. The same is true of those who lack aesthetic education. They might be persuaded to understand that a work of art is not to be treated like an object one encounters at the market. But since they understand only the kind of relationship they can establish with market goods, they will not grasp what works of art are actually for.

[ 17 ] This is roughly the content of the Goethean conversation mentioned above. It is evident that this conversation addresses, in a refined manner, questions that many today are reexamining. It would not be necessary to reexamine these and many other matters if one were willing to take the trouble to delve into the thoughts of those who approached these issues within the context of a truly high culture.