New Question: Aesthetic, Vernacular, and Visual Rhetoric
What’s the relationship between two influences—the vernacular and the aesthetic—and how we see today? What’s the relationship between these influences and visual rhetoric?
The vernacular (if seen as the everyday, the unschooled, concerned with function) and the aesthetic (if seen as the formally presented, concerned with beauty) seem to have a relationship that can be close or distant, depending on context. Helfand’s discussion of technological advancements in computer and television spatial design demonstrates a venue in which vernacular and aesthetic influences work side by side. She assumes new media designers should consider building from an aesthetic foundation (neoplasticism, surrealism, cubism), yet she also allows that “the integrated sophistication of multiple media has enabled the emergence of a new vernacular” (54). It seems here that the vernacular and the aesthetic inform each other.
Goggin’s account of the historical position, purpose, and performance of needlework shows the vernacular and aesthetic influences both at work in the art form, but different from the close relationship the vernacular and the aesthetic share in Helfand’s understanding of new media. Goggin discusses needlepoint in a historical framework, a framework that reveals early needlepoint to belong to the aesthetic (as it stressed color and design), and articulates a shift in Western needlepoint to the vernacular (as the purpose shifted to be more instructional). In their contemporary context, the exemplary needlepoint pieces (even the vernacular ones) are cited to be housed in museums, libraries, and significant collections, relegating them to the realm of the aesthetic.
I don’t know if I’m able to clearly establish the relationship between the vernacular and the aesthetic today without considering a third influence—the commercial. Is commercial influence a subcategory of either the vernacular or the aesthetic or does it shift independently? Helmers seems to believe aesthetic understanding is dependent upon commercial forces: “In many ways, the place to begin when discussing the work of art may not even be within the exhibition space itself, but in the mall bookstore, the campus poster shop, or the parking lot of the museum, places where the meaning of art is negotiated and where art is transmitted as a commodity such as a calendar, poster, or billboard and where the initial idea of an object as ‘fine art’ is apprehended” (77). I don’t know. I like to think that the aesthetic informs the commercial more than the commercial informs the aesthetic, but I guess Andy Warhol would’ve disagreed with me there. Would it be a cop out to say again that they (aesthetic/commercial) inform each other? I think commercial, aesthetic, and vernacular could be three circles in a Venn diagram.
I liked Goggin’s concept of the rhetoric of the visual that allows for “convergences between word and image” (106). I think with the concept of the rhetoric of the visual, the vernacular, the commercial, and the can be examined rhetorically, perhaps especially if historical context (and historic purposes and practices) is considered in the analysis.
I agree that the vernacular and aesthetic traditions seem to inform each other. From the readings, it strikes me that there is also some degree of practicality to this form of rhetoric. Helmers references the Bayeux Tapestry that depicts the Norman Invasion and in its times, I would see that as both aesthetic and vernacular and certainly rhetorical. It's a method of meaning-making and education and preservation of memory. Today, I think its rhetorical properties might not be as strong because I doubt many people would recognize or have any background knowledge on the sequences of images depicted.
Helmers discusses paintings a great deal, and I'm not sure how I want to classify them. Paintings, for me, are certainly aesthetic. Some of them I think are rhetorical, but not all. And, I don't know if I would classify them as vernacular. They don't strike me as something that's everyday or the everyman could produce. If it's a reproduction of a painting like posters or calendars or the variety of other products you could buy in a gift shop, as Elizabeth suggests, does strike me as a more rhetorical space.
Goggin uses needlework for an extended example and a good way to discuss the way the visual and the verbal inform each other. I'm not sure needlework is always an example of visual rhetoric. It is aesthetic and vernacular, but if its purpose is decorative then I'm not sure it's an example of rhetoric. I do think the samplers that are attempting to teach religious values or morals, for example, and make use of the verbal and the visual are strongly rhetorical.
The aesthetic and vernacular tradition, for me, require a purpose beyond decorative in order to be visual rhetoric. When they are negotiating the verbal and the visual and tasked with preserving memory, history or teaching values, morals then I would say those are examples of rhetoric. When considering art, which I've always thought of as aesthetic and for pleasure, I still desire some other purpose (something persuasive, perhaps) to consider it rhetoric.
I think in many ways that the vernacular and the aesthetic not only inform how we see but are also informed *by* how we see today. Elizabeth points out that Helfand "assumes new media designers should consider building from an aesthetic foundation (neoplasticism, surrealism, cubism), yet she also allows that 'the integrated sophistication of multiple media has enabled the emergence of a new vernacular.'" I totally agree with Helfand on this point: advancements in technology and new media have adjusted the aesthetics of the vernacular. People with access to computers and the internet have more tools with which to manipulate their message (textual or image-based) and are more equipped, by virtue of their living in the image-ubiquitous 20th/21st centuries, to make informed decisions about the presentation of their message and the aesthetics therein. These aesthetically intentional messages are the new vernacular.
Elizabeth also points to commercialism as having an effect on the vernacular and the aesthetic, and I think this gets to my point about how our way of seeing informs those "two influences." Our attitudes and assumptions about the ways of the world and how things ought to be, as we carry on in our day-to-day, capitalist, individualist, self-promoting, and survivalist lives, are what create the "market" for the aesthetic and the vernacular. Every message is something that has been designed to sell, to promote the designer. The vernacular and aesthetic, then, are just the available approaches to the perpetual rhetorical situation that is to live in a capitalist society in which communication and design are woven into the fabric of what it means to be an active citizen.
I think that mass culture has flattened out the major disconnects between what was once vernacular and aesthetic. Modernism and postmodernism severely undermined the idea that aesthetic value is meaningful by undermining the idea of "art" as a category. Suddenly any old thing becomes art and the notion of art as equivalent to beautiful goes out the window. Quite the contrary, an aesthetics of disorder - of self conscious rejection of bourgeois beauty - takes over for a while before being replaced by a materialist cult of the image of the mundane. At the same time, though, there is a classed disconnect between the mainstream and the ostensibly "avant-garde." The mainstream still maintains an ideal of beauty that it works with, but that aesthetic is a hodgepodge of ideas cannibalized from earlier eras: a pastiche of aesthetic "ideals" drawn from the last several hundred years and merged with our consumer cult.
The vernacular is ascendant in how we see today. This moment is part of what the Modernists and Postmodernists were trying to achieve: a move away from Art towards the artistry of the everyday. At the same time, though, the vernacular has become its own kind of aesthetic: its own kind of cultural capital. To use vernacular is to achieve "authenticity" and to wield cultural power in the age of mass culture. Between this and the heritage of aesthetics, we are trained to look for a pastiche of past ideal beauties while exalting the vernacular as "authentic". An artist must speak from her heart in the language of the people, but she must also be beautiful. An image must be relevant to the populism of the mass culture but reproduce a narrow construction of beauty.
For the visual rhetoric of the 21st century to be effective it has to cater to both frames. It has to mimic the user-generated content that saturates the culture in the form of YouTube, Facebook, blogs and so forth while echoing a fairly conservative aesthetic – albeit in a collage of ideas. At this point, visual rhetoric, even when not populist or popular at all, only has authority by posing as such.
Good stuff thus far team, and rather than go in a different direction, I’m going to pull mostly from what y’all have contributed, especially Elizabeth (no offense, Leigh, Stephen, and Larkin ;).
In order to discuss the relationship between the two influences, the vernacular and the aesthetic, I need first to develop an understanding, perhaps a definition, of each. I, unfortunately, have a difficult time doing that. The term aesthetic is commonly associated with beauty, emotion, and art; that is, the aesthetic shows beauty or is beautiful, the aesthetic invokes emotion, the aesthetic is art. This seems well and good, but what is “beautiful” and what is “art”, due to the myriad contexts and ways in which we’ve used the terms, is simply subjective. Now, the terms, like “perfect” or “love”, have negligible meaning. Moreover, I can easily apply these characteristics—being beautiful, invoking emotion, being art—to the vernacular as well, no? Even if we take Elizabeth’s distinction between the two, which I consider a helpful lens, can’t we envision the vernacular, as she says, “the everyday, the unschooled, concerned with function”, to be, according to what I’ve laid out above, also aesthetic?
I’m not trying to push us into a battle of semantics, but if we’re going to understand the relationship between the two, we need an understanding of these terms, and that’s (at least for me) a problematic starting point. Even Elizabeth, who necessarily makes the distinction in her first sentence, nonetheless admits the relationship between them can be “close” and the two often, as Leigh also points out, “inform each other.”
Taking this all in, I find Elizabeth and Leigh’s needlework example very intriguing, as it shows how easily the division between the vernacular and the aesthetic can be blurred. The samplers, as Goggin demonstrates, transformed over time and thus acquired different purposes. Two such purposes, to use as decoration and to use as practice, indicate both an aesthetic and vernacular quality. As a result, Elizabeth’s “third influence”, the commercial, is a helpful additional component.
I grappled with the commercial aspect of the visual throughout the second project (composing in two media), as I was dealing with a Banksy piece that was repurposed into two media (book cover and MacBook decal) for the purpose of turning a profit. As I mentioned, using the visual commercially is a common practice; what gave me pause was that the entire Banksy movement seems counter to the capitalistic one. Therefore, to see work that often signified an anti-capitalistic mindset repurposed for a capitalistic agenda made me wonder if art can ever escape commercialization. Moreover, how do we categorize graffiti? Is it aesthetic? Vernacular? Both?
Sometimes I love posting later. I like being able to see all the different ways we understand an idea—particularly when we have all done the same reading. What we are breaking this “vernacular/aesthetic” debate down to is a handful of issues: the level of context involved, the type of audience invoked, the location of the art, its relationship to commercialism, the cultural cache is carries, and the effects of the “art world’s” opinions. Almost all of us see these two terms as intertwined in complicated and nuanced ways, and nearly everyone created definitions that were highly historical and contextual (not to mention malleable and somewhat “fuzzy”). Furthermore, most of us talked about the importance of intent, purpose, and reception when connecting these concepts to visual rhetoric. I could not help but see the constant theme of meaning/interpretation as a transactional activity between artist, audience, and piece. I keep writing that phrase in my notebook during class and our posts here really emphasize the ways were are seeing these various transactions negotiated.
I cannot help but connect these discussions to Andy Warhol. I may have my Warhol-colored glasses on (since that was the artist I used for my second project and because Elizabeth got me going on him again); however, I see him, his work, and his lifestyle as a perfect example of the transactional qualities of art and the (extremely) thin line between “art”aesthetics, vernacular, and commercialism. Warhol created work that was meant to challenge the notion of highbrow art and the art aesthetic. Pop art saw beauty and importance in the everyday banal object and worked to raise it to the status of “art.” Warhol threw the notion of art aesthetic back in the faces of the art community. He created what he termed beautifully superficial art for the sake of the joke, because he could, because consumerism and capitalism were as much art as anything the art world deemed appropriate. He saw the blurry line between art aesthetic, the vernacular, and the commercial and he danced all over it; when asked about his “art transgressions” he danced louder, reveling in the celebrity, banality, and utter superficiality of it all. Pop art questioned all of the things we are posting about; it worked to answer these questions…..but not with fully cogent argument or logical appeals, rather with irreverence, indifference, and outright defiance. They enacted their positions and in the process they created a transaction between themselves, their art, and their audiences. Some audience members completed the transaction in ways the artists intended and “saw the joke” others missed the point all together and criticized their “soup can” prints and brillo box instillations. Either reaction was still a node in the conversation about the aesthetic, vernacular, and commercial (as well as the notion of art as rhetorical). The transactions were different and the receptions different but all of Warhol’s art at least got you talking—it got you questioning—it got you interested. For me that makes art rhetorical.
Upon contemplating this question, I found myself at the store buying a new camera. My reasons: I want one that works! I want to capture the moment, ideas, images, the everyday. Yet, I find myself taking pictures of random things, like wine glasses on the table, plates that are all in a line, food, ect. Then when going through the pictures, I delete the “everyday”. The pictures that don’t stand out as having the most perfect aesthetic qualities. In today’s world we do not only look at “art” with an aesthetic eye, but even the most mundane image could represent a beautiful piece because of our experience. As Helmers states, “ “there is no looking without thoughts of using…owning…appropriating, keeping, remembering and commemorating’. Looking is always framed by past experiences and learned ideas about how and what to see” (65). Yet, Helmers does not think of the aesthetic from this point of view. She clearly believes that the image, object, piece, if it has aesthetic qualities then we would find it in a museum. Someone, somewhere, said that this was “art” and therefore it must be “art” does not fly with Helmers. The piece must be critiqued, valued, judged by an expert in order for the vernacular to become aesthetic. So, Rosenblatt’s theory of continuum on the aesthetic to efferent value system is similar to thank of the continuum of the aesthetic vernacular spectrum.
The vernacular (if seen as the everyday, the unschooled, concerned with function) and the aesthetic (if seen as the formally presented, concerned with beauty) seem to have a relationship that can be close or distant, depending on context. Helfand’s discussion of technological advancements in computer and television spatial design demonstrates a venue in which vernacular and aesthetic influences work side by side. She assumes new media designers should consider building from an aesthetic foundation (neoplasticism, surrealism, cubism), yet she also allows that “the integrated sophistication of multiple media has enabled the emergence of a new vernacular” (54). It seems here that the vernacular and the aesthetic inform each other.
ReplyDeleteGoggin’s account of the historical position, purpose, and performance of needlework shows the vernacular and aesthetic influences both at work in the art form, but different from the close relationship the vernacular and the aesthetic share in Helfand’s understanding of new media. Goggin discusses needlepoint in a historical framework, a framework that reveals early needlepoint to belong to the aesthetic (as it stressed color and design), and articulates a shift in Western needlepoint to the vernacular (as the purpose shifted to be more instructional). In their contemporary context, the exemplary needlepoint pieces (even the vernacular ones) are cited to be housed in museums, libraries, and significant collections, relegating them to the realm of the aesthetic.
I don’t know if I’m able to clearly establish the relationship between the vernacular and the aesthetic today without considering a third influence—the commercial. Is commercial influence a subcategory of either the vernacular or the aesthetic or does it shift independently? Helmers seems to believe aesthetic understanding is dependent upon commercial forces: “In many ways, the place to begin when discussing the work of art may not even be within the exhibition space itself, but in the mall bookstore, the campus poster shop, or the parking lot of the museum, places where the meaning of art is negotiated and where art is transmitted as a commodity such as a calendar, poster, or billboard and where the initial idea of an object as ‘fine art’ is apprehended” (77). I don’t know. I like to think that the aesthetic informs the commercial more than the commercial informs the aesthetic, but I guess Andy Warhol would’ve disagreed with me there. Would it be a cop out to say again that they (aesthetic/commercial) inform each other? I think commercial, aesthetic, and vernacular could be three circles in a Venn diagram.
I liked Goggin’s concept of the rhetoric of the visual that allows for “convergences between word and image” (106). I think with the concept of the rhetoric of the visual, the vernacular, the commercial, and the can be examined rhetorically, perhaps especially if historical context (and historic purposes and practices) is considered in the analysis.
I agree that the vernacular and aesthetic traditions seem to inform each other. From the readings, it strikes me that there is also some degree of practicality to this form of rhetoric. Helmers references the Bayeux Tapestry that depicts the Norman Invasion and in its times, I would see that as both aesthetic and vernacular and certainly rhetorical. It's a method of meaning-making and education and preservation of memory. Today, I think its rhetorical properties might not be as strong because I doubt many people would recognize or have any background knowledge on the sequences of images depicted.
ReplyDeleteHelmers discusses paintings a great deal, and I'm not sure how I want to classify them. Paintings, for me, are certainly aesthetic. Some of them I think are rhetorical, but not all. And, I don't know if I would classify them as vernacular. They don't strike me as something that's everyday or the everyman could produce. If it's a reproduction of a painting like posters or calendars or the variety of other products you could buy in a gift shop, as Elizabeth suggests, does strike me as a more rhetorical space.
Goggin uses needlework for an extended example and a good way to discuss the way the visual and the verbal inform each other. I'm not sure needlework is always an example of visual rhetoric. It is aesthetic and vernacular, but if its purpose is decorative then I'm not sure it's an example of rhetoric. I do think the samplers that are attempting to teach religious values or morals, for example, and make use of the verbal and the visual are strongly rhetorical.
The aesthetic and vernacular tradition, for me, require a purpose beyond decorative in order to be visual rhetoric. When they are negotiating the verbal and the visual and tasked with preserving memory, history or teaching values, morals then I would say those are examples of rhetoric. When considering art, which I've always thought of as aesthetic and for pleasure, I still desire some other purpose (something persuasive, perhaps) to consider it rhetoric.
I think in many ways that the vernacular and the aesthetic not only inform how we see but are also informed *by* how we see today. Elizabeth points out that Helfand "assumes new media designers should consider building from an aesthetic foundation (neoplasticism, surrealism, cubism), yet she also allows that 'the integrated sophistication of multiple media has enabled the emergence of a new vernacular.'" I totally agree with Helfand on this point: advancements in technology and new media have adjusted the aesthetics of the vernacular. People with access to computers and the internet have more tools with which to manipulate their message (textual or image-based) and are more equipped, by virtue of their living in the image-ubiquitous 20th/21st centuries, to make informed decisions about the presentation of their message and the aesthetics therein. These aesthetically intentional messages are the new vernacular.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth also points to commercialism as having an effect on the vernacular and the aesthetic, and I think this gets to my point about how our way of seeing informs those "two influences." Our attitudes and assumptions about the ways of the world and how things ought to be, as we carry on in our day-to-day, capitalist, individualist, self-promoting, and survivalist lives, are what create the "market" for the aesthetic and the vernacular. Every message is something that has been designed to sell, to promote the designer. The vernacular and aesthetic, then, are just the available approaches to the perpetual rhetorical situation that is to live in a capitalist society in which communication and design are woven into the fabric of what it means to be an active citizen.
I think that mass culture has flattened out the major disconnects between what was once vernacular and aesthetic. Modernism and postmodernism severely undermined the idea that aesthetic value is meaningful by undermining the idea of "art" as a category. Suddenly any old thing becomes art and the notion of art as equivalent to beautiful goes out the window. Quite the contrary, an aesthetics of disorder - of self conscious rejection of bourgeois beauty - takes over for a while before being replaced by a materialist cult of the image of the mundane. At the same time, though, there is a classed disconnect between the mainstream and the ostensibly "avant-garde." The mainstream still maintains an ideal of beauty that it works with, but that aesthetic is a hodgepodge of ideas cannibalized from earlier eras: a pastiche of aesthetic "ideals" drawn from the last several hundred years and merged with our consumer cult.
ReplyDeleteThe vernacular is ascendant in how we see today. This moment is part of what the Modernists and Postmodernists were trying to achieve: a move away from Art towards the artistry of the everyday. At the same time, though, the vernacular has become its own kind of aesthetic: its own kind of cultural capital. To use vernacular is to achieve "authenticity" and to wield cultural power in the age of mass culture. Between this and the heritage of aesthetics, we are trained to look for a pastiche of past ideal beauties while exalting the vernacular as "authentic". An artist must speak from her heart in the language of the people, but she must also be beautiful. An image must be relevant to the populism of the mass culture but reproduce a narrow construction of beauty.
For the visual rhetoric of the 21st century to be effective it has to cater to both frames. It has to mimic the user-generated content that saturates the culture in the form of YouTube, Facebook, blogs and so forth while echoing a fairly conservative aesthetic – albeit in a collage of ideas. At this point, visual rhetoric, even when not populist or popular at all, only has authority by posing as such.
Good stuff thus far team, and rather than go in a different direction, I’m going to pull mostly from what y’all have contributed, especially Elizabeth (no offense, Leigh, Stephen, and Larkin ;).
ReplyDeleteIn order to discuss the relationship between the two influences, the vernacular and the aesthetic, I need first to develop an understanding, perhaps a definition, of each. I, unfortunately, have a difficult time doing that. The term aesthetic is commonly associated with beauty, emotion, and art; that is, the aesthetic shows beauty or is beautiful, the aesthetic invokes emotion, the aesthetic is art. This seems well and good, but what is “beautiful” and what is “art”, due to the myriad contexts and ways in which we’ve used the terms, is simply subjective. Now, the terms, like “perfect” or “love”, have negligible meaning. Moreover, I can easily apply these characteristics—being beautiful, invoking emotion, being art—to the vernacular as well, no? Even if we take Elizabeth’s distinction between the two, which I consider a helpful lens, can’t we envision the vernacular, as she says, “the everyday, the unschooled, concerned with function”, to be, according to what I’ve laid out above, also aesthetic?
I’m not trying to push us into a battle of semantics, but if we’re going to understand the relationship between the two, we need an understanding of these terms, and that’s (at least for me) a problematic starting point. Even Elizabeth, who necessarily makes the distinction in her first sentence, nonetheless admits the relationship between them can be “close” and the two often, as Leigh also points out, “inform each other.”
Taking this all in, I find Elizabeth and Leigh’s needlework example very intriguing, as it shows how easily the division between the vernacular and the aesthetic can be blurred. The samplers, as Goggin demonstrates, transformed over time and thus acquired different purposes. Two such purposes, to use as decoration and to use as practice, indicate both an aesthetic and vernacular quality. As a result, Elizabeth’s “third influence”, the commercial, is a helpful additional component.
I grappled with the commercial aspect of the visual throughout the second project (composing in two media), as I was dealing with a Banksy piece that was repurposed into two media (book cover and MacBook decal) for the purpose of turning a profit. As I mentioned, using the visual commercially is a common practice; what gave me pause was that the entire Banksy movement seems counter to the capitalistic one. Therefore, to see work that often signified an anti-capitalistic mindset repurposed for a capitalistic agenda made me wonder if art can ever escape commercialization. Moreover, how do we categorize graffiti? Is it aesthetic? Vernacular? Both?
Sometimes I love posting later. I like being able to see all the different ways we understand an idea—particularly when we have all done the same reading. What we are breaking this “vernacular/aesthetic” debate down to is a handful of issues: the level of context involved, the type of audience invoked, the location of the art, its relationship to commercialism, the cultural cache is carries, and the effects of the “art world’s” opinions. Almost all of us see these two terms as intertwined in complicated and nuanced ways, and nearly everyone created definitions that were highly historical and contextual (not to mention malleable and somewhat “fuzzy”). Furthermore, most of us talked about the importance of intent, purpose, and reception when connecting these concepts to visual rhetoric. I could not help but see the constant theme of meaning/interpretation as a transactional activity between artist, audience, and piece. I keep writing that phrase in my notebook during class and our posts here really emphasize the ways were are seeing these various transactions negotiated.
ReplyDeleteI cannot help but connect these discussions to Andy Warhol. I may have my Warhol-colored glasses on (since that was the artist I used for my second project and because Elizabeth got me going on him again); however, I see him, his work, and his lifestyle as a perfect example of the transactional qualities of art and the (extremely) thin line between “art”aesthetics, vernacular, and commercialism. Warhol created work that was meant to challenge the notion of highbrow art and the art aesthetic. Pop art saw beauty and importance in the everyday banal object and worked to raise it to the status of “art.” Warhol threw the notion of art aesthetic back in the faces of the art community. He created what he termed beautifully superficial art for the sake of the joke, because he could, because consumerism and capitalism were as much art as anything the art world deemed appropriate. He saw the blurry line between art aesthetic, the vernacular, and the commercial and he danced all over it; when asked about his “art transgressions” he danced louder, reveling in the celebrity, banality, and utter superficiality of it all. Pop art questioned all of the things we are posting about; it worked to answer these questions…..but not with fully cogent argument or logical appeals, rather with irreverence, indifference, and outright defiance. They enacted their positions and in the process they created a transaction between themselves, their art, and their audiences. Some audience members completed the transaction in ways the artists intended and “saw the joke” others missed the point all together and criticized their “soup can” prints and brillo box instillations. Either reaction was still a node in the conversation about the aesthetic, vernacular, and commercial (as well as the notion of art as rhetorical). The transactions were different and the receptions different but all of Warhol’s art at least got you talking—it got you questioning—it got you interested. For me that makes art rhetorical.
Upon contemplating this question, I found myself at the store buying a new camera. My reasons: I want one that works! I want to capture the moment, ideas, images, the everyday. Yet, I find myself taking pictures of random things, like wine glasses on the table, plates that are all in a line, food, ect. Then when going through the pictures, I delete the “everyday”. The pictures that don’t stand out as having the most perfect aesthetic qualities. In today’s world we do not only look at “art” with an aesthetic eye, but even the most mundane image could represent a beautiful piece because of our experience. As Helmers states, “ “there is no looking without thoughts of using…owning…appropriating, keeping, remembering and commemorating’. Looking is always framed by past experiences and learned ideas about how and what to see” (65). Yet, Helmers does not think of the aesthetic from this point of view. She clearly believes that the image, object, piece, if it has aesthetic qualities then we would find it in a museum. Someone, somewhere, said that this was “art” and therefore it must be “art” does not fly with Helmers. The piece must be critiqued, valued, judged by an expert in order for the vernacular to become aesthetic. So, Rosenblatt’s theory of continuum on the aesthetic to efferent value system is similar to thank of the continuum of the aesthetic vernacular spectrum.
ReplyDelete