I’m Dr. Andrew Wood, and this is your introduction
to the Culture of Copying. This lecture features
Walter Benjamin’s influential essay, “The
Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.”
So, yeah, this is a dense essay. But it’s
worth the slog.
Benjamin’s big idea is that reproducibility,
the power to construct copies of things aided
by media technology, can improve modern culture
by placing the power to communicate into the
hands of the masses.
“Quantity,” he says, “has been transmuted
into quality.”
Yet, of course, nothing is quite so simple.
At one point in his essay, Benjamin writes,
“The sight of immediate reality has become
an orchid in the land of technology.”
Think about that phrase carefully.
One gathers here an appreciation for concepts
like aura and authenticity, and some wistfulness
at their passing.
At the same time, Benjamin holds that the
new media of the 19th and 20th centuries,
no less than contemporary productions, possess
the power to transform life for the better,
to (in his words) “burst this prison-world
asunder.”
To better appreciate this essay, I highlight
three big ideas – and a warning:
Benjamin’s reminder that mass media may
liberate us, or place us in shackles.
Debbie, will you please go make a copy of this?
Let’s begin with Benjamin’s distinction
between exhibition value and cult value.
To preview this move, let me plant the seed
for exhibition value: the ability to reproduce
and distribute art broadly.
We’ll get there in a moment. But for now,
let’s dive in to Cult Value.
Think of a cult: an insular community with
arcane symbols and ritualized order.
Benjamin illustrates cult value with a specific
and important word: Aura.
He writes, “That which withers in the age
of mechanical reproduction is the aura of
the work of art.”
At first, this seems like a lament, and in
a way it is. But look more closely.
Aura, according to Benjamin, possesses three
qualities:
It is unique, original.
It is detached, hard to reach.
It is defined, named by experts.
You can’t claim to have aura; aura is conferred
upon you.
Think of aura as “cool.” What is cool?
How easy is it to be cool? And who decides
just what cool is?
To illustrate the broader idea, consider contemporary
debates about modern art, and the typical
question: “You call that art?”
This challenge summons a dispute about who
can decide whether something has aura, the
experts or the masses.
Or just think about the Mona Lisa.
You’ve seen it all your life: Leonardo da
Vinci’s depiction of a lone woman and her
mysterious smile. You’ve seen it, right?
You’ve been told that you have to see it.
But have you seen it?
Have you journeyed to Paris, traveled to the
Louvre, bought your tickets, stood in line,
and peered past the crowd to see the supposed
original Mona Lisa?
That would be cool!
That desire, and that privilege, is what Benjamin
means by Aura.
And, sure, he’d understand your reason to
join the cult of da Vinci purists. It’s
cool to get past the rope, to be on the inside.
To own the experience that others seek.
But Benjamin would add: there is power in
reproduction beyond the pleasure of possession.
There is value in the broader potential of
exhibition enabled by the multitudes of copies
accessible to the world’s population who
cannot, or will not, journey to Paris.
That’s what Benjamin means when he writes,
“mechanical reproduction emancipates the
work of art from its parasitical dependence
on ritual.”
This leads to the second big idea of this
essay: Benjamin’s comparison between collective
sensibility and individual reflection.
Here, he advocates for mass media as a tool
not just for entertainment but also for education
– and advocacy.
From this perspective we come to value the
technologies of production – and want to
understand them.
Those who would use media to change things
would seek to demystify their inner workings,
to remove the power of production from a rarified
few…
… to de-fetishize the auteur, just as they
would denigrate the ritualized and ordered
worship of inaccessible heroes.
Hmm… de-fetishizing the auteur. What does
that mean?
To answer that question from a contemporary
perspective, think about the power of sampling
in pop music, the means by which just about
anyone can take from the old to create something new
... to your brain. Seek now to retrain. The nerdcore refrain (goes): “Tut, Tut!” (Tongue-clucking grammarian, yo.)
Sure, one person may produce a lyric, a beat,
a rhythm. And there is great meaning in that
creative act. Yet Benjamin argues that the
possession of that artwork, the enclosure
of communication behind aura and cult value,
can be counterrevolutionary.
Emancipation comes, he suggests, when the
means of media production are widely shared.
So what kind of media production is most revolutionary
– at least in potential?
That leads to the third big idea in Benjamin’s
essay, a preliminary appreciation of direct
experience over detached contemplation.
First, he notes the power of cinematic production
to work in a manner comparable to that of
a surgeon, who can carve away from illusion
to reveal truth.
That should remind you of Rembrandt’s Anatomy
Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp.
Interestingly enough, Benjamin is drawn to
Surrealist cinema – and related Dadaist
mockery of aura – for inspiring not so much
a critical sensibility but rather a more direct
experience of life.
Hugo Ball recites Karawane [nonsense words]
One imagines that his ideal form of art is
that which summons strangers to a coffee shop
where they gather around a common table and
ask, “What the hell just happened?”
Yes, one may read an essay, take a class,
or apply a theory. But does that kind of copying
produce real insight?
Uh oh!
Now we begin to recognize a deeper risk of
reproduction: the fear that we turn off our
brains and follow – mindlessly – authors,
artists, critics – and professors.
That’s what so frustrating about film, Benjamin
says, it’s potential to liberate, or to
imprison.
Film, he says, possesses the power to break
us out of our collective stupor, to reveal
the hidden realities of things.
It is not just reproducibility that lends
such power; it is the very practice of distraction,
that so many high-minded critics often mock,
that can lead to collective convincing.
Benjamin compares this cinematic power to
the art and science of architecture, which,
despite its power to protect and inspire,
ultimately works to influence people in ways
they can scarcely contemplate: to persuade
through distraction.
Benjamin concludes his essay with a warning
– that cinema, like architecture, can serve
counter-revolutionary purposes, especially
when it advocates an aesthetic of violence.
[Remember this when you read Susan Sontag.]
Benjamin hints at the innately violent nature
of mass media when he describes the power
to “hit the spectator like a bullet.”
Here you might recall a phrase often attributed
to French filmmaker François Truffaut: “There’s
no such thing as an anti-war film.”
While subject to a broad array of interpretation,
we may suggest that this phrase affirms Benjamin’s
concern that the cinematic apparatus, regardless
of its intent, may work to anesthetize us.
As a Marxian, Benjamin is particularly wary
of fascist efforts to appropriate film and
other art-forms, to hide within their valorization
of violence and heroism the reactionary message
that affirm cults of personality: politicians,
generals, and captains of industry who enchant
the masses even as they enslave them.
Thus we leave Benjamin’s essay with no small
amount of ambivalence.
The author recognizes the power of mass media
to motivate collective action. Yet he simultaneously
warns that such power can be abused, especially
when we trade our critical sensibility for
pleasurable distraction.
Whew!
There’s a lot going on in Benjamin’s essay,
a lot to grasp.
To solidify your understanding, I recommend
that you accomplish the following tasks.
In your notes, write a few original sentences
to demonstrate your understanding of Benjamin’s
three distinctions:
Between Exhibition Value and Cult Value…
Between Collective Sensibility and Individual
Reflection…
… and
Between Direct Experience and Detached Contemplation.
Make sure that you engage the concept of Aura
somewhere in those notes.
And consider this trickiest of questions:
To what degree does Benjamin value the concept
of authenticity?
And don’t forget to consider his warning
about aesthetic violence.
Toward that end, write an original interpretation
of the phrase, “There’s no such thing
as an anti-war film.”
Well, that’s your introduction to the Culture
of Copying: a complex essay by a fascinating
figure.
Reading the prose of Walter Benjamin is a
rite of passage for communication and media
scholars, and you’ve now joined them.
You are now better prepared to contemplate,
not just consume, Modern Culture.
