Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Rob H post 3

Rob Hoffman

A) The best way to view Riefenstahl’s work would be in a state of total ignorance. A total lack of knowledge of Nazism, Hitler, World War II, and the Holocaust might be the only way that one could hope to obtain any degree of objectivity on what is, for our generation, an already done deal. No one still ponders the morality of the Nazis. They are the most stereotypical example of evil that exists in the modern world, and to question that would immediately label one as some kind of skinhead, neo-Nazi bigot. Due to this conditioning, total ignorance would be our only hope. We cannot be ignorant at will, however, and so instead we must simply attempt to put aside what we know and view Riefenstahl’s works as someone at the time might have.

Having done this, it is easy to see why people, Germans in particular, would have responded to the film. The editing, filming techniques, and vision of the film was, by all accounts, revolutionary. While I hesitate to call the material beautiful in the same sense as images of different kinds, there is a certain aesthetic appeal to the scenes from the Nuremburg rallies (not to mention a certain ironic appeal hidden in the setting). The sense of movement that Riefenstahl went to such great lengths to accomplish does set it apart from the newsreels that we associate with the time period. It is also worth noting here that although Sontag clearly considers the pageantry of the Nazis to be part of a fascist aesthetic that glamorizes sadomasochism, slavery, aggression, violence, death, and basically every other evil thing under the sun, that the style of the ceremonies was not original to the Nazis. Much of the choreography was borrowed from Catholic marches, parades, and ceremonies. Unless Sontag wants to claim that Catholicism celebrates the fascist aesthetic (which is very different kind of discussion), it’s hard to support her arguments.

That is not to say, however, that there is nothing ugly about Riefenstahl’s films. The formal aspects might be striking, but as Devereaux points out, these can only account for so much. Our objections have more to do with content than with the form of the filming. The form is perhaps not above criticism, but it is still kept safe under the protection of art. This protection does not extend to the subject matter. The portrayal of humans in masses, whipped into almost mindless states of group excitement are, to me, highly questionable. Regardless of the overtly militaristic nature, I personally find it disquieting to see so many people acting as a single group without thinking for themselves. This was to Riefenstahl one of the strengths of the film, but I personally find little beauty in it.

B) Apology necessarily connotes responsibility (or the illusion thereof). For an artist to apologize for his or her creations, he or she must be morally responsible for the art, and subsequently the effects produced by it. Should we hold artists responsible for what they create, or does art truly represent an amoral field that has an obligation to be honest before it is ethical. On the one hand, considering art to be itself moral is a rather absurd notion; without humans, the morality or immorality of a piece of art would be non-existent. Perhaps, then, the art itself is neutral but the artist is responsible.

If the artist is responsible, it becomes a question of intention vs. outcome. If we take a deontological perspective, then Riefenstahl’s intent becomes of supreme importance. Whether or not she intended to glorify Nazism greatly affects the moral quality and tone of the work. However, there is another way to view the question. If we consider Riefenstahl’s films from a utilitarian perspective, then all that matters is the effect that they produced. This conception of morality greatly deemphasized Riefenstahl herself and places more of the blame on the shoulders of the viewers of the work.

Neither Sontag nor Devereaux wants to place any blame on the shoulders of the viewers; this to me is troublesome. At least some fault must be distributed among those who saw the film and accepted it without consideration and criticism. They do both, however, see Riefenstahl as being greatly at fault. Sontag takes this even further, devoting the majority of the article to what is little more than personal attacks on Riefenstahl. If there is a purpose to these attacks other than to prove that she is not the person she claims to be, I know it not. Sontag loses much of her credibility for me by choosing to devote such effort to vilifying Riefenstahl and the Nazis, a task that is in some senses all too easy. Yes, the Nazis did bad things. Yes, Riefenstahl helped the Nazis either intentionally or otherwise by creating for them a very moving film.

What is far more interesting is whether or not she ought to apologize for doing this. If the film is truly art and art itself is truly amoral, then maybe she need not apologize for creating the film. But this doesn’t get her off the hook completely. She is not morally responsible for the art, but she is still morally responsible either for the intent or for the effects the art produces, or both. In a bizarre sense, this could lead us to say something to the effect that although she need not apologize for the art, she should apologize for creating the art. The fact that she has never been made to feel guilty about her art is a sign of integrity; the fact that she has never been made to feel guilty about what her art did is a sign that she is a thoroughly deplorable, pernicious reprobate.

3 comments:

S S M said...

I choose your post, yet again, to comment on. It is only because your insight intrigues me...

You said, “The form is perhaps not above criticism, but it is still kept safe under the protection of art.”

I would argue, to borrow your words, that in Devereaux’s perspective morality is kept safe under the protection of beauty.

You suggest that form often escapes judgment because it is pushed under the purpose of art – which, in this particular suggestion, is assumed to be independent of ethics.

Likewise, I suggest that morality often escapes assessment because beauty is assumed only to encompass what is good.

I also found it interesting that your definition of beauty is decidedly individualistic. Beauty, as many people see it, can only exist in the realm of convention. I use the term “convention” here as it pertains to what we, as a culture, perceive as right: freedom, individuality, criticism, morality, etc.

Is it not possible for art to exist outside of freedom, outside of individuality, outside of morality? Aren’t these concepts endemic only to our culture?

Another point you brought up is your understanding of the simultaneous neutrality of art and responsibility of the artist. If art is neutral – neither moral nor immoral – then to what are we holding the artist responsible?

I agreed with you concerning the very narrow implications of Sontag’s argument – she adds very little to the debate of beautiful evil, but rather, focuses almost singularly upon Riefenstahl’s consistent dishonesty.

Your concluding paradox, I feel, captures the essence of the debate of beautiful evil. Who are we to regulate representation and creative expression? At the same time, who was Riefenstahl to deceive us so willingly and so unsuitably?

Kevin Boone said...

As Rob stated, ignorance would be bliss when viewing this piece of art. As I had stated in my post, it's important to be objective and disregard the subject matter when assessing the qulaity of "art." We have to forget all that is associated with Hitler, Nazism, The Holocaust, and World War II to judge Riefenstahl's film. Her revolutionary techniques were just that, revolutionary.

Furthermore, I agree with Rob's statement, " She is not morally responsible for the art, but she is still morally responsible either for the intent or for the effects the art produces, or both." I believe she should be responsible for how the art propelled the Nazi movement forward and portrayed Hitler in such a positive light.

Ted Henderson said...

Hey Rob. I found your thoughts on the possibility of looking at Riefenstahl's work from an "ignorant standpoint" very interesting. Certainly, there is something to be said for being able to view a piece of artwork such as Triumph of the Will without any previous knowledge of the Nazi Party and the atrocities its members committed during its heyday, and perhaps he who is able to do this is the only person who can truly judge Riefenstahl's film with an unbiased opinion. Then again, it is the very question of Riefenstahl's own knowledge of the intentions of Hitler and other Nazi leaders at the time of her directing the film that brings about the second question of whether or not she should be held partially responsible for its affects. Therefore, I don't believe it's necessary to judge her film without background knowledge of the Nazis being that Riefenstahl herself, as far as historical evidence can tell, had a somewhat extensive background of Nazi political beliefs, and in fact close friendships with the party's leaders. Without previous knowledge of Nazi beliefs and action during the 1930's and 40's, one could only really judge the formal and aesthetic aspects of the film, and these are not the elements of the film that are called into question morally. The intent of the movie's creation is what is in debate, and thus the intent of the director. One cannot make judgements regarding the directors intentions in making the film without some sort of idea of what the focus of the film (a.k.a. the Nazi Party) stood for.

I also have a few comments regarding your assertion that, perhaps an artists need not apologize for their art itself, but only for their creation of it. Since we have taken part in the Culture Wars RCC, I have continually heard comments like "art does not apologize" and others similar to this making the basic point that, whether or not it is offensive, art should not have to be apologized for by its creator. You, in some way, confirm this belief with your aforementioned statement, but qualify it by noting that artists should be apologetic for the creation of perhaps immoral art. I hate to sound ignorant in asking this but, truly, what is the difference between apologizing for creating immoral art and apologizing for the art itself? In my opinion, if someone were to apologize for having created something morally questionable, but to insist upon not apologizing for that something's existence in itself, then are they really apologizing for creating it? To me, if someone apologizes for anything, this is a sort of automatic realization and acceptance on their part that whatever it is that they are apologizing for was a mistake, that is, that what they did was wrong. Thus, if, for instance, Riefenstahl were to apologize for her directing the film The Triumph of the Will, and in doing so, confirm that the intent of the film was morally questionable, I believe she would similarly be acknowledging that the film ITSELF, because of the immoral intentions with which it was brought about, is an immoral creation. This is just a thought that I've been mulling over recently due to our class’s recent debate as to whether or not art can be, in itself, morally wrong. Well, now that I have finished blabbing, I would just like to mention that your post was a great read and raised many questions relevant to both Riefenstahl’s film and a broader look at the moral responsibility of artists.