Bad Romance

When I think of all my bad relationships, I tend to blame it on incompatibility. When I think of the relationship between Art and Philosophy, I also think of incompatibility. This is why I still have fun with this discipline; I can always test my arguments on real life examples. Let me explain, my morning session at the APA Conference today was on Aesthetics. Precisely, about the relationship between Art and Philosophy. More specifically, a drag. Not because these should not work together, but rather due to the way these were forcefully joined. Carlos Garcia from Buffalo State University (NY) was attempting to link art and philosophy by giving us a philosophical interpretation of the art of Carlos Estevez, a Cuban artist. He first provided a definition of art that was in nature essentialist through two conditions: 1) art has to be an artifact, and 2) art has to generate an aesthetic experience. This definition is at a first glance already flawed, because it wouldn’t be able to include much of conceptual art. But beyond this, because nobody cares about defining art except for philosophers. But what is interesting about his project is what is at risk in this relationship.

That is, why are we even trying to constrain the artwork to the cognitive claims of philosophy? Because, I argue, we still want to problematically hold on to the concept of autonomy in art. Garcia, claims that art is not reducible to philosophy, and yet by giving us a “philosophical” interpretation of the work of Estevez, he constrains the ontology of the work to the realm of logic and perception, reducing art to philosophy. What is at risk? For the sake of keeping the autonomy, at the level of philosophical definition, the historical dimension of the work is dissolved. So here we have another form of Iconoclasm in Aesthetics: The more philosophy we put into the work of art, the more distant we get from experiencing the work in its ontological completeness. That is, the less we get to bring in the historical dimension, which allows us to bring in the ethical dimension of the work. Clearly by looking at these artworks, if an installation by a Cuban exile who addresses violence and suffering is not political, historical, if it does not have an ethical dimension, then what is it? If it is not ontologically complete then it’s not art, it’s just philosophy. Talk about a one sided relationship over here.

Then again, to give philosophy a break, I went to the artist’s website to further explore his works, and this is what his statement of purpose said:
“In my art I answer the question, what is a human? What is happiness? What is freedom?”
So now, finally enough, we have an artist who believes that his art can answer philosophical questions. It can solve the problem of personal identity, free-will and also somehow give us a universal definition of what happiness is.
Not only are philosophers playing artists, but now artists are playing philosophers. Garcia’s project is just another example of scholarly work where art and philosophy have to compete for first prize by dissolving each other in the process. After sitting through this panel, all I can say is that Philosophy and Art needs to establish a better theoretical relationship. They are both pretty neurotic disciplines, but they need each other, because what is of the philosophy of art without art? And how can art answer philosophical questions without philosophy? Can’t join them together, can’t separate them.
Basically, another story of all my bad relationships, another bad romance. Maybe this is why I like Aesthetics.

Open Letters

Reading the New York Times this morning (I’m slowly transforming into a white person) I found an interesting article about a publishing company. Open Letters is a small press affiliated with the University of Rochester that publishes nothing but literature in translation. And this is just a really good idea. Starting out with the correct assumption that English speaking readers don’t have full access to voices and viewpoints from around the world, these translators want to change that. That is, they are trying to change the conditions of recognizability, so that Westerners can begin to acknowledge other voices. Their recent publications include “Season of Ash” by Mexican novelist Jorge Volvi, Brazilian political poetry, and an anthology of eastern European writers titled “The Wall in my Head.”

Open Letters and their recent project brings me to think the issue of acknowledgment in aesthetics. Once the authorial voices gain representation through translation, the public gets to acknowledge these formerly un-heard, un-read voices. No doubt that this is a great idea, given that there is a set of readers out there that’s very interested in translations and international literature, and is not getting what it wants. But it is also a great idea to specifically want to translate social critiques, political poetry, and literature that addresses suffering and the perils of violence. The issue of literary accessibility takes me to Judith Buttler, whom I have been reading these holidays. Buttler addresses photography related to violence in her work, but I believe the issue is the same with political works of literature. It is not exactly true that an excess of images of suffering makes us callous and passive towards these ethical/political issues. It is rather the opposite; the dominant media carefully selects and filters the images we get to see, excluding anything that may have more than a superfluous meaning. This is evident in times of war for example. As Buttler argues, it is in the realm of representation that humanization and dehumanization are confirmed endlessly.

Buttler’s assumption that whoever can be represented stands more of a chance of being regarded as human, while those that are not represented, are at risk of being de-humanized can be used in the realm of photography but also in literature. What this publishing company is doing then, at the level of recognition or representation, is allowing us to acknowledge and, thus, giving others the chance to represent themselves through the translation of these voices. I’m loosely interpreting Buttler over here, so bear with me, but if we fail to acknowledge due to a lack of translated political works, these voices and what they want to represent are at risk of loosing representation. Not just politically, but at an ontological level (because we don’t take into account their precariousness, vulnerability, interdependency etc. if we never get to read them.) So I think that when Buttler argues for more egalitarian norms of recognition at the level of representation in photography, we can also incorporate this view to the literary realm, where more egalitarian norms of recognition would demand for more translators that could help us gain more access to political literary works. So Open Letters press is not only translating but also allowing us to acknowledge, by giving us better, more egalitarian norms of recognition, how’s that for a good book deal.

Talking World War Blues

I’m here in Queens for a couple of weeks tutoring Spanish, to later spend all I earn on graduate school application fees. I am, also, relying on my parents to proof read my cover letters, because all my professors (whom I have bothered enough already) are on Holiday vacations. Witnessing how my parents engage in this task, allows me to notice the difference between my father’s Christian protestant ethic and my mother’s Italian, war-survivor ethic, both which I have incorporated in my own life.
For example, when proof reading my cover letter, Dad mostly makes sure I put all my commas and capitalize words correctly. He also makes sure there is nothing exaggerated in my narrative. This is important because, knowing me; he also knows that I tend to make up fictions for whatever I lack in reality. So when I mention that I lived in NYC ever since we moved from Argentina, to sound more of a “native New Yorker,” my father reminds me that going to community college in CT may ruin the logical structure of that time line. Or when I mention that I am thoroughly impressed by the work of so and so, my father makes sure I have actually read their works before I state this. Because, to Dad, if one exaggerates or tells white lies regardless the circumstance, one will always suffer the consequences.
Also, this is an example of how my father reacts to the information in my cover letters for Philosophy programs:

Bill: “Queer Theory?! Why are you using the word ‘queer’ in your cover letter? Isn’t that an inappropriate word to use?”
Me: “Because I went to that seminar at Penn State, remember Dad? And we covered Contact Theory, but also Gender and Race Theory, and Queer Theory. Philosophy departments are OK with queer theory Dad, it makes me look cool. Plus, I’m not gay, if that’s your worry.”
Bill: “O.K, then maybe we should capitalize all these philosophy words, such as Structuralism, and Deconstruction.”
Me: “That’s fine, but then we are going to have to capitalize a lot of words.”
Bill: “You mention John Dewey!? Let me tell you, I’ve been working in the NYC Public school system for three years and there is nothing that Dewey has said that changed education one bit.”
Me: “Fine Dad, but I like his pragmatism in philosophy, just keep making sure my commas are in the right place.”

And this is what I always get from Dad who looks for certainty in every story, and who makes sure my terms are not inappropriate. Honestly, I’m glad I have his view to constrain me from going to the other side. ..Which leads me to my mother’s ethic.

My mother on the other hand is proof reading my cover letters for Spanish Literature programs. She is the one who taught me to use some fiction whenever we fall short on reality, and in my life I have mostly fallen short on reality. So I have used this whenever in need to sound more interesting, or cooler than what I really am, specifically in resumes and cover letters. Recently talking to my neighbor Austin (one of those people who likes to act) he mentioned how acting implies unlearning everything you already knew about the craft. This reminded me of what Helene Cixous says about writing, "To live, one must learn to lie, but to write one must learn how to unlie." So as opposed to a craft, which implies unlearning, or un-lying, what is interesting about reality is that to live one must know how to lie.* As opposed to my father’s strict honesty policy, my mother believes that if one doesn’t exaggerate some things, one eventually gets screwed over for being too honest anyway.

So I was brainstorming ideas on who to get a letter of recommendation from, and figured I should find at least one professor in Buenos Aires to write me a letter for this program. Being honest only got me two letters from professors in the U.S, and I needed one more. My mother, who studied in the University of Buenos Aires, contacted Roberto Ferro, her thesis adviser in Argentina. This is all great except that I have never worked personally with Ferro. While Dad would advice me to constrain the search to professors whom I have worked with before, my mother advised me to write an e-mail to Ferro. In it, I should ask him for a letter, promising that I would someday return the favor. In Argentina, my mother grew up practicing the art of borrowing and returning favors. You help me and I help you, because nobody else is going to help us anyway in this place, and nobody cares- so take that as an ethic.
This is the e-mail I wrote to Ferro:

“Dear Roberto, I read your latest work on Jacques Derrida and really enjoyed it. I’m applying to the Spanish program at Columbia University, and was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation. If I get in, I would love to have you as one of my thesis advisers in the future. Also, Mirta says Hi.”

Before I sent it, my mother looked at it. While Dad aims for certainty, mom makes sure the fiction is always coherent in its own narrative universe.

“Did you read his book?” she asks me
“No” I answer.
“Oh, OK, you misspelled this word. Also, don’t mention the word ‘future’, in Argentina nobody has the energy to be concerned about the future.
“OK. Thanks Mom.”

Two hours later, Roberto replies to my e-mail. Here is when I remember that this time of the year, in Argentina; everybody is out of work. Hanging in the middle of summer weather, beating the humidity under the breeze of their fans. I also know that Ferro, who directed the movie "Bolivia" is now also directing the movie "Paraguay" in his own apartment, so I’m assuming he’s been spending time inside his place a lot.

“Dear Caro, I just wrote you a letter for Columbia University, Hugs, Roberto.”

(The real version goes: "Caro, te mande la carta a Columbia. Un abrazo. Roberto.")


That was the last piece I needed to complete my Columbia University application: a letter from Buenos Aires from a film director who also teaches Spanish Literature, and I did it my mother’s way. In the absence of certainty, there are always plenty of doors to knock.

Obviously, getting accepted into any P.h.D program this year will be a whole different story, flooded in rejection letters.

But these two ways of doing things are the two resources I use when I am learning or un-learning. The Christian protestant ethic of my father keeping me sane and on the right path. But without the war-survivor ethic of my mother, the times I’ve fallen, the times my reality was way bleaker than my fiction... I would never be able to land back on my feet, never be able to find, somehow, that missing piece.


(* When I say that "to live, one must know how to lie," I'm not talking about cheating, deception or other things of that manner, I'm merely addressing exaggeration, and learning how to pull strings as a survival skill for some of us.)