2000
Style, Taste & Cyber-Networks
J.D. Casten
(click here for easy to read & print .pdf version)
MEDIUMS
We live in a super-human society. Our television shows, movies, automobiles,
clothing and houses-- even our jobs-- are far beyond the capacity of human
individuals to conceive of. No single person can make an automobile; such
complex constructions require teams of engineers, assemblers, managers,
etc., all working within traditions of production which date back before the
births of their own generations. Biologically, one can see that society
itself is like a large organism, with inter-penetrating and over-lapping
cultural forces: fads, traditions, conflicts, and solidarities of the social
body arise in global forces far outside the capabilities of its individual
cells and limbs-- we humans. Perhaps this has always been the case, but
never so much as today.
With pop-culture we see the effects of the larger forces which proliferate
through an economy driven by consumer supply and demand. Beyond selling out,
much of what many consider their favorite "art" was formulated from the very
start as a way of making money by satisfying popular demand. We virtually
have poll takers prescribing which "art" products to produce (and such is
the case with focus groups). The hand-made crafts of counter-culture folks,
and the folk song by the wandering guitar player are almost always eclipsed
by the multi-million dollar motion picture investment. No doubt, such
mega-investments of the entertainment industry have often produced quality
art that make Leonardo da Vinci look like a bore. Yet, these may also
contribute to our super-human reality; as a society, we have made ourselves
out to be much more than we could ever be as individuals. And this has
discouraged many, I believe, from turning their passive-consumerism into an
active creativity. We live in an age where the medium which used to be the
mere obstacle between one and one's expression has become the mass media
which structures the expression of a social force so powerfully we can
barely do more than gaze at its spectacle in utter fascination.
No doubt, the medium has always played a shaping role in artistic
production. A piano and a guitar lend themselves to different types of
musical composition, and one may wonder to what extent the history of music
has been shaped by the instruments used. With painting the instrumental
"interference" could be at a minimum: the simple paint brush worked as the
cybernetic extension of the pointing finger. Maybe it wasn't until the cut
and paste collage method was used that the limitations, or rather, the
coercions of the brush or pointing implement could be fully illustrated: new
techniques are needed to demonstrate the limits of older ones. And with
today's technology, especially with computers, art has gone far beyond the
limitations of bodily movements, allowing minds to roam through a space
restrained only by mathematical possibility. But have our bodies, in the
ultra-contemporary media take-over, been dissolved into mere aesthetic
mediations which only serve to interface us with the social machine? Has the
style of the body been cut out by the tastes of a consumer society?
AUTOMATIC STYLE
The body is one. It may couple with others, or grow out another, but in its
integrated functionality it has an autonomy which guarantees the possibility
of comfortable security. The body provides a sanctuary from the nightmare of
global responsibility, of conscience-- for the actions of our bodies are by
and large unconscious. To discover this, one need do no more than listen to
one's verbal soul as it bursts forth from the body. One's stream of
conscious is not consciously intended; one can not decide what one is going
to think before one thinks-- there is a perpetual movement which one neither
follows nor anticipates, but which one is effectively. Such arises out of
the over-determination of personality; the body is shaped and trained by
cultural forces and a personal history, and the body's actions evidence this
training as style.
The style of one's body as trained is most evident in the visual arts with
gesture. When one paints or draws, the trace left by bodily action evidences
the body's history. When one learns to write, for example, certain muscles
are developed; and if some muscle is damaged, one's handwriting may evidence
this. After awhile, one's handwriting may settle upon a recognizable style--
one which would be quite different than the results of initial attempts to
write. And this style of gesture is not consciously producible-- one may try
to forge a signature, but even this would be a modification of one's own
signature style, and would require practice.
Similarly, attention to gesture, and perfecting it through practice has long
been a factor in painting, and has been especially prominent in Asian
traditions where the stroke has been a major mode of stylistic
signification. Just as the writing in Asian languages have been based on
pictograms, special strokes have been developed to designate certain visual
textures. For example, beyond the extended post-impressionistic strokes used
by Vincent Van Gogh, Asian artists such as Wang Meng have used different
types of strokes respectively for rocks, leaves, or tree bark. With practice
through repetition, these strokes may gain a unique aspect akin to the style
of the letters in handwriting. The published "sketch-books" of the Japanese
ukiyo-e artist Katsushika Hokusai evidence practiced strokes, as with the
watery splashing "fingers" on the breaking crest of his Great Wave off the
Coast of Kanagawa. With Hokusai, practiced gestures go beyond mere strokes
to entire shapes. More than seeing some representation of a wave, we may
actually read Hokusai's artwork, which is composed of arranged signifiers
which loosely resemble what they signify. Hokusai's practiced local images
come close to providing a bridge between pictorial representation and
pictographic language. In western art as well, bodily style can be seen with
art nouveau artists, such as William Blake and Edmund Dulac, where fluid
organic lines suggest physical gesture as much as pictorial representation.
Style, as evidencing the practice and training of the body, is habitual.
Repetition of certain procedures reinforces used muscles and neural pathways
throughout the body and in the brain. As with martial arts, certain actions
and reactions become automatic. Nietzsche, who claimed in The Will to Power that "all perfect acts are unconscious,"1 approximates this in his own
writing style with aphorisms that suggest bursts of spontaneous thought.
Automatic style can also be found in jazz music, such as with Thelonious
Monk's spontaneous improvisation. Use of medium implements or tools and
techniques, and the internalization of cultural customs become automatic as
well (as Marshall McLuhan writes in The Medium is the Massage, "The wheel
...is an extension of the foot"2). The leading edge of spontaneous habitual
action is the stream of conscious; a stream of conscious that includes not
only an internal voice, but also the full spectrum of sensations-- imagined
or observed images, the movement of muscles, the flows of sound, etc.
Although sensation is often seen as passively observed, the brain does
structure much of what is perceived.
CRITICAL TASTE
All is not, however, smooth sailing automatic style. Often the unforeseen
occurs and stops style in its tracks. Hesitation sets in, consciousness
elevates, and lucid choices must be made (one might recall the heightened
awareness of learning how to drive a car). Here, taste refers to these
moments of choice, in contrast to the automatic actions of style. Taste is
in the domain of the critic, and is often critical. And, as a choice, taste
offers a certain amount of freedom; taste interrupts the spontaneous flow of
a style that is unconsciously determined in its origin, and opens up
possibilities and new potential courses of action. Taste presents the
opportunity to change one's style.
For artists, taste is evident with the choice of colors, the choice of
perspective or viewing angle, the arrangement of shapes, and the choice of
what to illustrate. In writing, taste is evident in selecting quotations, in
using the thesaurus, in editing, and in using cut and paste options with
word processors. The poetry of e.e. cummings also demonstrates interruptions
of style with the invention of new kinds of spacing and grammar. Critical
taste can be found in music too, with the use of sampling, such as in the
Beatles' song ,"I am the Walrus," and in modern rap or hip hop music. The
choice and treatment of subject matters may evidence a taste that can not
only be aesthetically beautiful, but critical, and even sarcastic or
satirical (as with works by Andy Warhol and the early Roy Lichtenstein; who
both directed others in the creation of their works).
Hokusai's selection of
a specific view in his Great Wave was one of many views of Mount Fuji
included in his book Thirty-six views of Mount Fuji. In line with Hokusai's
multiple perspectives of one object, consider the various images of Van
Gogh, in his own Self-portrait with Bandaged Ear, in Paul Gauguin's Van Gogh
painting Sunflowers, and in Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec's Portrait of Vincent
Van Gogh; with these artworks we can see how different styles may converge
on the same, or similar, selected "object" (one may notice how much more
seriously Van Gogh took himself than Gauguin or Toulouse-Lautrec did). That
which may be the "object" of a painting-- whether it be a view, an object, a
person, a feeling, an idea, literary passage, historical event, etc.--
offers itself to innumerable ways of being visualized. To a large extent the
"object" of concern is, to borrow Jacques Derrida's use of the term, "undecidable;"
it lends itself to possibilities, and this may force an artist to make
choices. One might argue that photo-realism would offer a method of
reproducing worldly objects as they "really" are; yet, Pablo Picasso's
multi-perspective cubism clearly demonstrates that even methods like
photo-realism already cut off certain possibilities of representing things
as they "really" are. (Besides, humans do not perceive exactly as cameras
do). Any type of reproduction requires choices which skew the way an object
is seen.
However, the ambiguity of the "object" encountered may not be enough to
force an artist to make a conscious choice and depart the status quo-- one
may simply treat an ambiguity in a conventional manner. For a choice to be
de-automated, one's action must be doubted-- style castrated by taste (not
that style or taste are any more masculine or feminine). One must be stopped
short and hover for awhile in an abyss of indecision before one can make a
conscious choice. There must be a moment of having to choose because one's
action has been paralyzed by uncertainty. And such a free choice is what
allows one to change one's style and to affirm it with conviction as one's
own. Likewise, ambiguity and techniques of defamiliarization used by artists
can compel an audience to re-examine their own perspectives.
SEMANTIC NETWORKS
As the discussion has heretofore centered on a loose dialectic or
juxtaposition of subjective style and taste in the arts, I will turn here to
a loose, yet more scientific, analysis of objective action and its possible
suspension in cognition. The second half of this essay, from another
perspective, should interlock with the first half by offering details
concerning the unconscious and automatic production of some aspects of a
stream of consciousness exemplified by the spreading activation theory of
cognitive science.
Mentally, ideas have connections to other ideas, and physically, neurons are
connected to other neurons; and in each case, the connections can be
strengthened by reinforcement through use. If we were to give a visual
representation of the logical space inherent in both types of connections,
we would imagine a web of nodes with varying numbers of lines (arcs)
connecting them; lines which would be weighted ("thicker") according to the
strength of connection (and this is what neurological networks look like.)
On the mental side of this interconnectivity, we can easily see that some
ideas have consistently been associated with other ideas, and that there are
specific types of connections. Indeed, the fact that a relationship between
nodes is of a specific type requires more of our visual example than simply
a line connecting two nodes-- each relationship (line) could be indexed and
connected to a "type of relationship node" (regular nodes could designate
nouns or adjectives, and relational nodes could represent verbs). This
complex web of ideas comprise a semantic network (as introduced by Ross
Quillian3) and function as memory when developed.
We can imagine a semantic network as having first-order and fuzzy logical
structures with hierarchies of concepts. However, the unconditional
variability of connection types in a semantic network (there could be
connections to representations of images and sounds too) and the inclusion
of connection strengths in a semantic network may offer more flexibility
than fuzzy or first-order logic alone; with semantic networks containing
logic within their possibilities.
SPREADING ACTIVATION
Beyond a static group of nodes, a semantic network grows with use, and it
can also be "animated." Each node in a semantic network can be activated
into consciousness through a process called 'spreading activation,' as
introduced by Allan M. Collins and Elizabeth F. Loftus.4 The general
operation for such an activity is such: the activation of one node
facilitates the activation of related nodes (one thought leads to another).
Here, it would be necessary that each node in a network would require a
certain amount of prompting from the nodes it was connected to in order to
activate-- each node would have a certain threshold level which, if met by
the prompting of other connected nodes, would cause a node to activate
(causing a term to come to mind).
Biologically, these nodes need not be represented with single neurons, but
may be represented with clusters of neurons representing a single term or
idea. Hence, it would not be necessary for every node that contributes to
the activation of a term into consciousness to be activated into
consciousness itself. If each of the facilitating nodes was called a 'cue'
then the more cues for a certain term are given, and the stronger the
connections are between these nodes are, the more likely that term is to
come to mind.
There are many types of prompts which might be called 'cues': thought words,
physically given words, or even external objects and situations. And again,
it may be possible that some cues could be given that were not explicitly
thought of by a person. For example, if someone came upon an animal that was
furry, had four legs, barked, and was on a leash tied to a dog house, each
of these cues might contribute to the conscious activation of the single
term 'dog' without each cue itself being activated into consciousness (and
the activation of 'dog' might also contribute to the further activation of
the dog's name, 'Fido'). There are thus semi- or unconscious activations of
nodes and terms hovering on the verge of consciousness that may activate
other terms. (An excellent discussion of spreading activation can be found
in chapter xi of Douglas R. Hofstadter's Gödel, Escher, Bach: an Eternal
Golden Braid 5).
SEQUENTIAL THOUGHT AND ACTION
Two other types of interconnection should also be discussed-- contiguity, or
the flow from one lexical unit to the next; and the combination of smaller
units interconnected as larger wholes. On a small scale, these combined
connections can be seen with the combination of letters that go to make up a
whole word. In turn, several words could be combined to form idioms. This
sort of sequential clustering could be seen to form even larger structures
such as sentences, paragraphs, or even entire episodic memories (recalling
that image and sound representations could be connected to a semantic
network).
The flow from one idea to the next in a stream of consciousness requires an
explanation beyond spreading activation. Although the logic or deep
structure of any train of thought might be mapped out on a semantic network,
the flow of thought usually follows some syntactical or grammatical form--
this temporal, and unfolding aspect of grammar, as distinct from and
complementing the semantic relations involved, could be called 'rolling
grammatical "progression"' (I put 'progression' in quotes to note that the
flow of grammar may not be going anywhere). The fact that there is a
grammatical process distinct from semantic processing is suggested by the
results of people having an aphasia due to a lesion in the posterior part of
the left hemisphere in the brain (the left hemisphere being more likely to
be used in language usage). People with posterior aphasia, or Wernicke's
aphasia, can produce correct grammar without substantial semantic content;
grammar is distinct from semantics, although there may be an interactive
activation (a kind of feedback) between the two. A simple example of rolling
grammatical progression would be the sequence of "subject verb object." And,
just as one can observe a child learning new associations, one can also see
a learning of more complicated grammatical styles. Such a progression is
illustrated by comparing the simple grammar of grade-school texts with the
complex grammar of Henry James or Edith Wharton.
There are also more complex activities such as learning and employing
skills, techniques, and strategies (such as playing the piano, painting,
playing chess, etc.). The later Ludwig Wittgenstein investigated some of
these activities with his concept of 'language games,' which includes local
practices such as reading or naming (the performatives of J. L. Austin, the
speech acts of John R. Searle, and the memes of Richard Dawkins are also
related to language games). Like terms in a semantic network, language games
and skills can be associated, (as with the language games of asking
questions, and those of answering them); they may have their own spreading
activation; and they can be associated in hierarchies of larger wholes and
parts (an account of how skills may have their own spreading activation can
be found in Pattie Maes' article "How to Do the Right Thing,"6 a good
discussion of which can be found in Stan Franklin's Artificial Minds7). At a
broader level, we have Michel Foucault's use of the term, 'discourse,' which
designates the likes of the military, democracy, or psychiatry-- practices
and institutions that are made up of interrelated skills and language games.
Semantic networks, skills, language games, and discourses would all also
incorporate new terms and activities by connecting these with older
established terms and practices. In his Society of Mind, Marvin Minsky
claims: "Each new technique presumably begins by exploiting methods already
learned in other, older agencies. So new ideas often have roots in older
ones, adapted for new purposes."8 It should be noted that these language
games and discourses are not tools at hand, but operate automatically; they
are not used by a subject but effectively constitute it.
IMPLICATIONS AND LIMITATIONS
The outline of cognition heretofore, concerning the automatic action of the
brain, has some interesting philosophical implications. Not only is there no
need for abstract essences, platonic forms, signifieds, or mental
prototypes, there is also nothing essential for the use of any term; there
is no criterion necessary for the activation of a term into consciousness,
but only sufficient prompting from any number of related nodes with specific
connection strengths. A given object or situation need not be compared to a
mental prototype to be recognized, as the given cues or features of objects
or situations would directly activate terms in a semantic network.
Similarly, skills and language games would not need essential rules of
operation. As Hubert L. Dreyfus claims in his What Computers Still Can't Do,
"[t]he important thing about skills is that, although science requires that
the skilled performance be described according to rules, these rules need in
no way be involved in producing a performance."15 A various number of
micro-actions would be sufficient to complete a task without any one action
being necessary in general; explicit symbolic rules need not be followed, as
one action naturally leads to other associated actions.
Just as it was noted earlier that semantic networks provide a structure that
could be broader than logic, it may be noted that skills, language games and
discourses provide structures that are more broad than reason or
intelligence; reason, intelligence and other goal related activities are
only specific language games and discourses among many others (hence the
term 'artificial intelligence' already limits a scope of inquiry).
However broad cognitive structures may be though, they are limited by the
structure of the brain. This means that our ability to perceive and think
about our world is also limited by brain structure; our brains project their
own structure and functioning on the environment. For example, the perceived
singularity of objects may be a projection of a singular brain (differences
that distinguish one object from another, like that between a TV and the
table it is on, are relative to a judge); and semantic networks that have
interactive activation with perception mechanisms help shape what is
perceived (we often see what we expect to see, such as with optical
illusions). Of course our world lends itself to such projections; yet, there
remains the possibility of other kinds of structure, or even realms beyond
what we perceive as structure, which we can not begin to conceive of. Even
our modeling of brain activity would be limited by brain structure.
In a related limitation, neural structure would not comprehend conscious
qualia or sensual experience (including emotions). There is simply no place
in the brain where physical structures could turn into qualia without
becoming non structural, and hence leap out of the circle of structural
causality (if one where to say that structure causes qualia, then why
couldn't qualia effect structure?) Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz noted: "it
must be avowed that perception and what depends upon it can not possibly be
explained by mechanical reasons, that is, by figure and movement. Suppose
that there be a machine, the structure of which produces thinking, feeling,
and perceiving; imagine this machine enlarged but preserving the same
proportions, so that you could enter it as if it were a mill. This being
supposed, you might visit its insides; but what would you observe there?
Nothing but parts which push and move each other, and never anything that
could explain perception."21 (Here the word 'perception' could designate
qualitative sensation.) Such reassures us that robots would be no more
sentient than a rock (they might have personality or spirit), but it raises
problems concerning the claim that neurons can activate terms into
consciousness. (A contrasting view point on this issue of qualia can be
found in Daniel C. Dennett's Consciousness Explained.11) No doubt though,
some neural activity would be consciously experienced and some would be
unconscious-- this might be decided, unconsciously in the brain, by an
attention system; a system that would also limit the number of thoughts or
perceptions entering into consciousness. Some claim that consciousness is
the ability of a system to have a model of itself. If this were so, then how
conscious could we be without constructing artificial intelligence, without
having a complete model of ourselves? Perhaps the qualitative consciousness
involved in this, however, is such that it eludes neurological
comprehension-- it is something radically other than structure as our
brains' projections can know it-- our efforts to know qualia may be like
groping for air with our hands.
CONTEMPLATION AND MEDITATION
We can now bring together the two parts of this essay. As spontaneous
action, style designates the activation of nodes into consciousness and the
automatic performance of skills and language games. These activities can be
learned, practiced and refined, creating new neural connections and
strengthening old ones. Taste most likely arises with the creation of new
connections-- in situations where neural habit is challenged by unexpected
circumstances, choices must be made in a confrontation with uncertainty.
Taste affects the choice of which style to exercise; taste shapes style.
Yet, taste can also be automatic, as simply another pre-determined action,
or as a choice implied by style. In ordinary language, the use of the words
'taste' and 'style' are often synonymous-- the difference between the two
terms may collapse. But their interrelations can be made more complex, as
with contemplation. When contemplation occurs there is a wavering between
style and taste-- inspirations arise spontaneously only to be called into
question by "thinking twice" as one works thoughts over the subject matter
at hand. Contemplation can be exercised if one chooses to pursue language
games that employ critical strategies like being skeptical, raising
questions, exploring options, finding assumptions, and identifying
prejudices. One can practice language games that will question habitual
norms and open up possibilities for further free choice. Moreover, use of
metaphors and learning new word usage's can create new semantic
connections-- poetry can help free the soul.
Conversely, just as there are both style and taste in contemplation, there
is neither style nor taste in meditation-- one may try to suspend the
activity of the mind without falling into doubt. This too would require much
practice. Contemplation and meditation (which are especially relevant in an
approach to Zen and its koans) may provide a way to strike a balance between
style and taste, a balance between action and free choice (although there is
more likely to be a balance between balance and imbalance-- we will always
have artists, musicians, and writers that lean one way more than another).
On a greater scale, people could be considered as nodes in a social and
environmental network. People have relations with other people and the
environment, and these relations become stronger through reinforcement. Via
communication and worldly occurrences, spreading activation crosses brain
boundaries as ideas circulate and proliferate. With technology, spreading
activation operates through the mass media and cyber-space, and enters the
realm of super-human society where hype and mass-produced commodities
explode in a dazzling array of hypnotizing spectacles. Here personal tastes
and styles combine to form social trends. The individuality that is lost in
super-human team projects is supplanted by new super-individuals-- actors,
athletes, and politicians are constructed as super-star celebrities and
heroes.
All hope for individual artists to compete with super-human group
collaborations is not lost though. As evidenced by Michelangelo, who worked
for four years on the Sistine Chapel ceiling, and by James Joyce, who worked
for over a decade on Finnegans Wake, it is possible for a person to create
works that may even out do the super-human; yet, even these works were not
created in a social vacuum; paints and books are manufactured by groups. At
any rate, it still remains the obligation of individuals to (1) question or
accept social styles and tastes with their own choice of conscience, a
conscience that possibly bears the overwhelming weight of global
responsibility, and to (2) critically direct actions accordingly with a
freedom based on examining one's options rather than bulldozing one's way.
FOOTNOTES
1 Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power, ed. Walter Kaufmann, trans. Walter
Kaufmann and R. J. Hollingdale (New York: Random House, Inc., 1967), p. 163.
2 Marshal McLuhan and Quentin Fiore, The Medium is the Massage (New York:
Bantam Books, 1967), pp. 31-32.
3 Ross Quillian, "Semantic Memory" in Marvin Minsky (Ed.), Semantic
Information Processing (Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press, 1968); and also see
Allan M. Collins, and M. Ross Quillian, "Retrieval time from semantic
memory", Journal of Verbal Learning and Verbal Behavior 8 (1969), pp.
240-248.
4 Allan M. Collins, and Elizabeth F. Loftus, "A spreading-activation theory
of semantic processing", Psychological Review 82 (1975), pp. 407-428.
5 Douglas R. Hofstadter, Gödel, Escher, Bach: an Eternal Golden Braid (New
York: Basic Books, 1979).
6 Pattie Maes, "How to Do the Right Thing", Connection Science, 1:3 (1990).
7 Stan Franklin, Artificial Minds (Cambridge Mass.: The MIT Press, 1997).
8 Marvin Minsky, Society of Mind (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1986), p.
141.
9 Hubert L. Dreyfus, What Computers Still Can't Do, A Critique of Artificial
Reason (Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press, 1992), p. 253.
10 Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz, Monadology and Other Philosophical Essays,
trans. Paul Schrecker and Anne Martin (New York: The Bobbs-Merrill Company,
Inc., 1965), p. 150.
11 Daniel C. Dennett, Consciousness Explained (New York: Little, Brown and
Company, 1991).
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Van Gogh - Starry Night

Wang Meng

Hokusai - Wave on Hato Coast

Hokusai - Great Wave

Hokusai - from 100 Fuji Views

Blake - from Europe

Dulac - from The Little Mermaid

Hokusai - from 36 Fuji Views

Hokusai - from 36 Fuji Views

Van Gogh - Self -Portrait with Bandaged Ear

Gauguin - Van Gogh Painting Sunflowers

Toulouse-Lautrec - Van Gogh

Picasso - Weeping Woman
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