Art and Truth
Though not traditionally a major
topic within aesthetics, the relationship between truth and works of art is of
considerable interest in the context of Theory of Knowledge.
There are those who argue that artists (and we are still
using the word “art” in a wide sense to include literature, music, and other
art-forms) have a special responsibility to convey the truth. This
responsibility derives in part because the impact of their work gives them
unusual power, but also from the special position of art - at least the visual
and many of the performing arts in transcending language The feelings conveyed
by Rodin’s Thinker or a great ballet are not restricted by language. One
example of this is the way in which Picasso’s painting
Few would deny the power of language to convey a feeling or
an idea. Winston Churchill’s stirring calls to the people of
Nevertheless, the claim that art can ‘convey the truth’
needs some examining. Of course, factually true statements can be found in a
work of literature and a painting can give us correct information about the
clothes, furniture, even the games of the era it is depicting. From Constable’s
The claim that art ‘tells the truth’ surely means more than that true
statements are made in literature or that simple factual statements can be
correctly deduced from observing a paintrng? There is
a suggestion of something deeper, something unique to art However, we need to
ask what is meant by ‘truth’ of this kind. What kind of truth is it, which
cannot be expressed in the form of an empirical statement? And if a truth can
be so asserted, it must be possible also to assert the falsehood, which would
contradict it. And what sort of truth can be derived from music or a dance?
What about a photograph or a film? Is the old cliché that ‘the camera does not
lie’ really true? In one sense it is, but we all know that the photographer and
the filmmaker are selective in their choice of subjects. The photographer
covering a violent demonstration can concentrate either on the demonstrators
hurling missiles or the police vigorously making arrests. If a set of pictures is
published showing only one of these activities, can it be said to be ‘true’?
And does not the caption beneath the picture or photograph contribute to the
‘truth’? In the second chapter of, ‘Art and Illusion’, E. H. Gombrich gives a number of examples of misleading captions
or titles of pictures.
Even if the greatest of care were to be taken in painting a fair, unbiased
picture, is it possible to do so? Could two artists looking at the same scene
produce identical paintings? Our experience tells us that, even if they could,
they certainly do not. And of the two pictures, which one is the ‘true’ one?
Why, in any case, is there a need to find truth in art? Our
age is so addicted to facts, to finding out the ‘truth’ about things that we
are in danger of overlooking the true value of art. By trying to reduce art to
a series of truth-statements, are we not diminishing it? Is there not a value
in art of all kinds, which goes far beyond the passing on of ‘truth’?
As Douglas Morgan wrote, in a paper entitled ‘Must Art tell
the Truth’ in the Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, Vol
26, 1967:
Remember, if you can, that breathless final mooment when you have moved intensively with heart and mind
through a quarter of Brahms or Bartok You have hoped, expected, feared, been lifted,
lowered, fulfilled and disappointed, and now, inevitably, the voices together
sing one rich, climactic chord. You as a person vibrate, suspended, with the
vibrating sound,
Now imagine your neighbour leaning
towards you anxiously and expectantly to ask “Quickly, tell me what you learned
from that music. What information did it communicate to you? What knowledge do
you have that you didn’t have before? Such a neighbour
deserves only an icy glare of disdain. He is projecting learning, knowledge and
truth into an area of human experience where it has no natural or necessary
place. Learning and knowledge, and truth are no less valuable because their
value is not exclusive. There really are other goods in the world than these,
and there really is no need to confect such bogus kinds of truth as poetic or
pictorial or even musical truth for works of art to wear as certificates of
legitimacy.