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[Home]
[Up]
[Contents]
[Preface]
[Bibliographical Note]
[A Note on the Text]
[WHAT IS ART?]
I
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VII
VIII
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XVII
XVIII
XIX
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[CONCLUSION]
[Appendix I]
[Appendix II]
[Notes]
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WHAT IS ART?
¿¹¼úÀº ¹«¾ùÀΰ¡?
TRANSLATED BY RICHARD PEVEAR AND LARISSA VOLOKHONSKY
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¿¹¼úÀº ¹«¾ùÀΰ¡?
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¡¡ |
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Three conditions contribute to the production in our society of objects of counterfeit art. These conditions are: (1) the considerable remuneration of artists for their works and the resultant establishing of the artist as a professional, (2) art criticism, and (3) art schools. |
¼¼°¡Áö »óȲµéÀÌ ¿ì¸® »çȸ¿¡¼ ¸ðÁ¶ ¿¹¼úǰµéÀÇ »ý»ê¿¡ ±â¿©ÇÑ´Ù.
ÀÌµé ¼¼°¡Áö »óȲµéÀº: (1) ¿¹¼ú°¡µéÀÇ ÀÛǰµé¿¡ ´ëÇÑ »ó´çÈ÷ ¸¹Àº º¸¼ö ¹× ±×¿¡ µû¸¥ Á÷¾÷Àû ¿¹¼ú°¡ÀÇ È®¸³, (2) ¿¹¼ú ºñÆò, ¹× (3)
¿¹¼úÇб³µéÀÌ´Ù. |
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As long as art was undivided, and only religious art was appreciated and encouraged, while indifferent art was not, there were no counterfeit works of art; or, if there were, being subject to the
judgment of the whole people, they would drop away at once. But as soon as the division had been accomplished, and people of the wealthy classes recognized any art as good so long as it afforded pleasure, and this pleasure-affording art began to be remunerated more highly than any other public activity, then at once a great number of people devoted themselves to this activity, and it acquired a totally different character than formerly and became a profession. |
¿¹¼úÀÌ ºÐ¸®µÇÁö ¾Ê¾Ò°í, ¿ÀÁ÷ Á¾±³ ¿¹¼ú¸¸ÀÌ °¨»óµÇ¸ç Àå·ÁµÇ´ø ÇÑ,
¼Åõ¸¥ ¿¹¼úÀÌ Á¸ÀçÇÏÁö ¾Ê´ø ¶§´Â, ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ¸ðÁ¶ ÀÛǰµéÀÌ Á¸ÀçÇÏÁö ¾Ê¾Ò°Å³ª; ȤÀº, ¸¸ÀÏ Á¸ÀçÇÏ¿´´õ¶óµµ, Àüü ¹ÎÁßÀÇ ÆÇ´Ü¿¡ ºÙ¿©Á®¼,
Áï½Ã µµÅµǾúÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ºÐ¸®°¡ ¿Ï¼ºµÇ°í, ±×¸®°í ºÎÀ¯ÇÑ °è±ÞµéÀÇ »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ¾î¶² ¿¹¼úÀÌ¶óµµ ±×°ÍÀÌ Äè¶ôÀ» ÁØ´Ù¸é ¼±ÇÏ´Ù°í ¿©±â¸ç, ÀÌ
°°Àº Äè¶ôÀ» ÁÖ´Â ¿¹¼úÀÌ ´Ù¸¥ ¾î¶² ´ëÁß È°µ¿º¸´Ù ´õ ³ôÀº º¸¼ö¸¦ ÁÖ°Ô µÇÀÚ¸¶ÀÚ, ±× Áï½Ã ¾öû³ª°Ô ¸¹Àº »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ÀÌ·± Ȱµ¿¿¡ ¸ôµÎÇÏ¿´À¸¸ç,
±×°ÍÀº ÀÌÀü°ú´Â ÀüÀûÀ¸·Î ´Ù¸¥ ¼º°ÝÀ» ¶ì°Ô µÇ¾úÀ¸¸ç Á÷¾÷À¸·Î º¯ÇÏ¿´´Ù. |
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And as soon as art became a profession, the chief and most precious property of art — its sincerity — became significantly weakened and was partly destroyed. |
±×¸®°í ¿¹¼úÀÌ Á÷¾÷À¸·Î µÇÀÚ¸¶ÀÚ, ¿¹¼úÀÇ °¡Àå ÇÙ½ÉÀûÀÌ¸ç ±ÍÁßÇÑ
Ư¼º
— ±× ¼º½Ç¼º —
Àº »ó´çÈ÷ ¾àÈµÇ°í ºÎºÐÀûÀ¸·Î ÆÄ±«µÇ¾ú´Ù. |
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The professional artist lives by his art, and must therefore constantly invent subjects for his works, and invent them he does. It is clear what difference must exist between works of art when created by people such as the Hebrew prophets, the authors of the Psalms, Francis of Assisi, the author of the Iliad and Odyssey, of all folk tales, legends, and songs, who not only received no remuneration for their works, but did not even connect their names with them, and when art was first produced by court poets, playwrights, musicians, who received honour and remuneration for it, and then by official artists, who lived by their craft and received remuneration from journalists, publishers, impresarios and middlemen in general, who stand between the artists and the urban public — the consumers of art. |
Á÷¾÷ ¿¹¼ú°¡´Â ±×ÀÇ ¿¹¼ú·Î »ì¾Æ°£´Ù, ±×·¯¹Ç·Î ¹Ýµå½Ã
²÷ÀÓ¾øÀÌ ±×ÀÇ ÀÛǰµé¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ÁÖÁ¦µéÀ» °í¾ÈÇØ³»¾ß Çϸç, ±×´Â ½ÇÁ¦·Î ±×°ÍµéÀ» °í¾ÈÇØ ³½´Ù. È÷ºê¸® ¼±ÁöÀÚµé, ½ÃÆíÀÇ ÀúÀÚµé, ÇÁ¶û½Ã½º ¾Æ½Ã½Ã,
Àϸ®¾Æµå ¹× ¿Àµð¼¼ÀÌÀÇ, ¸ðµç ¹Î´ãµé, Àü¼³µé, ¹× ¹Î¿äµéÀÇ ÀúÀÚµé °°Àº, ÀڽŵéÀÇ ÀÛǰµé¿¡ ´ëÇØ ¾Æ¹«·± º¸¼öµµ ¹ÞÁö ¾Ê¾ÒÀ» »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó,
½ÉÁö¾î ±×°Íµé¿¡ ±×µéÀÇ À̸§µé Á¶Â÷ °áºÎ½ÃŰÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´ø, ¹ÎÁߵ鿡 ÀÇÇØ âÀÛµÈ ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰµé°ú,
¿¹¼ú¿¡ ´ëÇØ ¸í¿¹¿Í º¸¼ö¸¦ ¹Þ¾Ò´ø
±ÃÁ¤ ½ÃÀεé, ±ØÀÛ°¡µé, À½¾Ç°¡µé¿¡ ÀÇÇØ,
´ÙÀ½À¸·Î ±â¼ú·Î »ì¾ÒÀ¸¸ç ¾ð·Ð»çµé, ÃâÆÇ¾÷ÀÚµé, ÀϹÝÀûÀ¸·Î ÈïÇàÁÖµé ¹× Áß°³Àεé·ÎºÎÅÍ º¸¼ö¸¦ ¹Þ´Â °øÀÎ ¿¹¼ú°¡µé¿¡ ÀÇÇØ óÀ½À¸·Î âÀÛµÈ ¿¹¼ú
ÀÛǰµé »çÀÌ¿¡´Â, ºÐ¸íÈ÷ Â÷À̰¡ Á¸ÀçÇÑ´Ù´Â °ÍÀº ¸í¹éÇÏ´Ù. |
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This professionalism is the first condition for the spread of counterfeit, false art. |
ÀÌ·± Á÷¾÷¼ºÀº ¸ðÁ¶ÀÇ, À§¼±ÀûÀÎ ¿¹¼úÀÇ È®»êÀ» À§ÇÑ Ã¹Â° »óȲÀÌ´Ù. |
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The second condition is the recently emerged art criticism — that is, the evaluation of art, not by everyone, and above all not by ordinary people, but by learned, and therefore perverted and at the same time self-assured, individuals. |
µÎ ¹øÂ° »óȲÀº ÃÖ±Ù¿¡ ºÎ»óÇÑ ¿¹¼ú ºñÆòÀÌ´Ù
— Áï, ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ´ëÇÑ Æò°¡·Î¼, ¸ðµç »ç¶÷µé¿¡ ÀÇÇÑ °ÍÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¸ç, ¹«¾ùº¸´Ù º¸Åë »ç¶÷µé¿¡ ÀÇÇÑ °ÍÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ½ÄÀڵ鿡 ÀÇÇÑ, ±×·¯¹Ç·Î Ÿ¶ôÇÑ
±×¸®°í µ¿½Ã¿¡ ÀÚ¸¸¿¡ Â÷ÀÖ´Â °³Àε鿡 ÀÇÇÑ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
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A friend of mine, speaking of the attitude of critics towards artists, defined it half jokingly like this: critics are the stupid discussing the clever. This definition, however one-sided, imprecise and crude, still contains a partial truth, and is incomparably more correct than the one according to which critics are supposed to explain works of art. |
³ªÀÇ Ä£±¸ Çϳª´Â, ¿¹¼ú°¡µé¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ºñÆò°¡µéÀÇ Åµµ¸¦ ³íÇϸé¼,
ÀÌ¿Í °°ÀÌ ¹Ý ³ó´ãÁ¶·Î ±×°ÍÀ» Á¤ÀÇÇß´Ù: ºñÆò°¡µéÀº Çö¸íÇÑ °ÍÀ» ³íÇÏ´Â ¿ìµÐÇÑ ÀÚµéÀÌ´Ù. ÀÌ Á¤ÀÇ´Â, ¾Æ¹«¸® ÆíÇâÀûÀ̸ç, ºÎÁ¤È®Çϰí À¯Ä¡ÇÏ´Ù
ÇÏ´õ¶óµµ, ¿©ÀüÈ÷ ¹Ý¸éÀÇ Áø¸®¸¦ ´ã°í ÀÖÀ¸¸ç, ºñÆò°¡µéÀÌ ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰµéÀ» ¼³¸íÇÏ´Â Á¤ÀǸ¦ µû¸£´Â °Íº¸´Ù ºñ±³ÇÒ ¹Ù ¾øÀÌ ´õ¿í Á¤È®ÇÏ´Ù. |
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¡®Critics explain.¡¯ But what do they explain? |
'ºñÆò°¡µéÀº ¼³¸íÇÑ´Ù.' ÇÏÁö¸¸ ±×µéÀº ¹«¾ùÀ» ¼³¸íÇϴ°¡? |
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An artist, if he is a true artist, has in his work conveyed to others the feeling he has experienced: what is there to explain? |
¿¹¼ú°¡´Â, ¸¸ÀÏ ±×°¡ Âü ¿¹¼ú°¡¶ó¸é, ±×ÀÇ ÀÛǰ ¾È¿¡¼ ±×°¡
°æÇèÇß´ø ´À³¦À» ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô Àü´ÞÇß´Ù: °Å±â¿¡ ¼³¸íÇÒ ¹«¾ùÀÌ Àִ°¡?? |
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If the work is good as art, then the feeling expressed by the artist is conveyed to others, regardless of whether the work is moral or immoral. If it is conveyed to others, they experience it, and experience it, moreover, each in his own way, and all interpretation is superfluous. If the work does not infect others, then no interpretation is going to make it infectious. Artistic works cannot be interpreted. If it had been possible for the artist to explain in words what he wished to say, he would have said it in words. But he has said it with his art, because it was impossible to convey the feeling he experienced in any other way. The interpretation of a work of art in words proves only that the interpreter is incapable of being infected by art. That is indeed so, and, strange as it may seem, it is the people least capable of being infected by art who have always been critics. For the most part they are people with a ready pen, well educated, intelligent, but with a completely perverted or atrophied capacity for being infected by art. And therefore, with their writings, these people have always contributed significantly and still contribute to perverting the taste of the public that reads them and believes them. |
¸¸ÀÏ ±× ÀÛǰÀÌ ¿¹¼ú·Î¼ ¼±ÇÑ °ÍÀ̶ó¸é, ±× ÀÛǰÀÌ µµ´öÀûÀ̵ç
ºñµµ´öÀûÀÌµç °ü°è¾øÀÌ, ¿¹¼ú°¡¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Ç¥ÇöµÇ´Â ´À³¦Àº ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô Àü´ÞµÈ´Ù. ±×°ÍÀÌ ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô Àü´ÞµÈ´Ù¸é, ±×µéÀº ±×°ÍÀ» °æÇèÇÑ´Ù,
±×¸®°í ´õ¿íÀÌ °¢ÀÚ´Â ÀÚ±â ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ ¹æ¹ýÀ¸·Î ±×°ÍÀ» °æÇèÇÑ´Ù, ±×¸®°í ¸ðµç ÇØ¼®Àº »çÁ·ÀÌ´Ù. ¸¸ÀÏ ÀÛǰÀÌ ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷µéÀ» Àü¿°½ÃŰÁö ¾Ê´Â´Ù¸é,
±×°ÍÀÌ Àü¿°µÇ°Ô Çϱâ À§ÇÑ ¾î¶² ÇØ¼®µµ ÇàÇØÁú ¼ö ¾ø´Ù. ¿¹¼úÀûÀÎ ÀÛǰµéÀº ÇØ¼®µÉ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù. ¿¹¼ú°¡°¡ ±×°¡ ¸»ÇÏ°í ½ÍÀº °ÍÀ» ¸»µé·Î¼
¼³¸íÇÏ´Â °ÍÀÌ °¡´ÉÇß´õ¶ó¸é, ±×´Â ±×°ÍÀ» ¸»µé·Î ¹ñ¾î ³»¾úÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ±×´Â ±×ÀÇ ¿¹¼ú·Î ±×°ÍÀ» ¸»Çß´Ù, ¿Ö³ÄÇÏ¸é ±×°¡ °æÇèÇÑ °ÍÀ»
´Ù¸¥ ¾î¶² ¹æ¹ýÀ¸·Î Àü´ÞÇÏ´Â °ÍÀÌ ºÒ°¡´ÉÇ߱⠶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù. ¸»·Î¼ ¾î¶² ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰÀ» ÇØ¼®ÇÔÀº ´ÜÁö ÇØ¼®ÀÚ°¡ ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Àü¿°µÉ ´É·ÂÀÌ ¾øÀ½À»
Áõ¸íÇÏ´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×°ÍÀº ÂüÀ¸·Î ±×·¯ÇÏ´Ù, ±×¸®°í, ÀÌ»óÇÏ°Ô ´À²¸ÁúÁöµµ ¸ð¸£Áö¸¸, ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Àü¿°µÇ±â°¡ °¡Àå Èûµç »ç¶÷µéÀº ¾ðÁ¦³ª
ºñÆò°¡µéÀ̾ú´Ù. ´ëüÀûÀ¸·Î ±×µéÀº ¼Õ½¬¿î Ææ°ú, Àß ±³À°¹Þ¾ÒÀ¸¸ç, ÁöÀûÀÌÁö¸¸, ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Àü¿°µÇ±â¿¡´Â ÀüÀûÀ¸·Î Ÿ¶ôÇ߰ųª ȤÀº Å𺸵È
´É·ÂÀ» Áö´Ñ »ç¶÷µéÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¯¹Ç·Î, ±×µéÀÇ ÀÛǰµéÀ» ÅëÇÏ¿©, ÀÌ »ç¶÷µéÀº ¾ðÁ¦³ª ±×°ÍµéÀ» ÀÐ°í ±×°ÍµéÀ» ¹Ï´Â ´ëÁßµéÀÇ ÃëÇâÀ» Ÿ¶ô½ÃÅ´¿¡
»ó´çÈ÷ ±â¿©ÇØ ¿ÔÀ¸¸ç ¾ÆÁ÷µµ ±â¿©Çϰí ÀÖ´Ù. |
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Art criticism did not and could not and cannot exist in any society in which art is not divided in two and is therefore evaluated by the religious world view of the whole people. Art criticism emerged and could emerge only in the art of the upper classes who do not recognize the religious consciousness of their time. |
¿¹¼ú ºñÆòÀº ¿¹¼úÀÌ µÑ·Î ³ª´©¾î ÁöÁö ¾Ê¾ÒÀ¸¸ç, ±×·¯¹Ç·Î Àüü
¹ÎÁßÀÇ Á¾±³Àû °üÁ¡¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Æò°¡µÇÁö ¾Ê´Â ¾î´À »çȸ¿¡¼µµ Á¸ÀçÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø¾úÀ¸¸ç Á¸ÀçÇÒ ¼öµµ ¾ø´Ù. ¿¹¼ú ºñÆòÀº ¿ÀÁ÷ ±×µé ½Ã´ëÀÇ Á¾±³Àû ÀǽÄÀ»
ÀνÄÇÏÁö ¾Ê´Â »ó·ù °è±ÞµéÀÇ ¿¹¼ú¿¡¼ ³ªÅ¸³µÀ¸¸ç ³ªÅ¸³¯ ¼ö ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. |
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Art of the whole people has a definite and indisputable inner criterion — religious consciousness; the art of the upper classes does not have this, and therefore the lovers of this art must inevitably hold to some external criterion. For them, this criterion is, as was said by an English aesthetician, the taste of ¡®the best nurtured men¡¯, the best educated men — that is, the authority of people regarded as educated, and not only their authority but also the tradition of their authority. This tradition, however, is a quite mistaken one, both because the
judgments of ¡®the best nurtured men¡¯ [89] are often mistaken, and because
judgments that were once correct cease to be so in time. Yet the critics, having no grounds for their
judgments, never cease repeating them. The ancient tragedians were once considered good, and the critics consider them so still. Dante was considered a great poet, Raphael a great painter. Bach a great musician, and the critics, having no standard by which to distinguish good art from bad, not only consider these artists still great, but also consider all the works of these artists great and worthy of imitation. Nothing has contributed and still contributes so much to the perversion of art as these authorities set up by criticism. A young man produces a work of art, expressing in it in his own particular fashion, as any artist does, the feelings he has experienced. The majority of people are infected by the artist¡¯s feeling, and his work becomes known. And then the critics, discussing the artist, start saying that his work is not bad, but still he is no Dante, no Shakespeare, no Goethe, no Beethoven of the late period, no Raphael. And the young artist, listening to these opinions, starts to imitate those set up as examples for him, and produces not only weak, but counterfeit, false works. ¡¡ |
Àüü ¹ÎÁßÀÇ ¿¹¼úÀº È®°íÇÏ¸ç ³í¶õÀÇ ¿©Áö°¡ ¾ø´Â ³»ÀûÀÎ ±âÁØ
— Á¾±³Àû Àǽė
À» Áö´Ñ´Ù; »ó·ù °è±ÞµéÀÇ ¿¹¼úÀº À̰ÍÀÌ ¾ø´Ù, ±×·¯¹Ç·Î ÀÌ·± ¿¹¼úÀÇ ¾ÖÈ£°¡µéÀº ¹Ýµå½Ã ¾î¿ ¼ö ¾øÀÌ ¾î¶² ¿ÜÀûÀÎ ±âÁØ¿¡ ÁýÂøÇØ¾ß ÇÑ´Ù.
±×µé¿¡°Ô ÀÖ¾î¼, ÀÌ·± ±âÁØÀº, ÇÑ ¿µ±¹ ¹ÌÇÐÀÚ¿¡ ÀÇÇØ ÁÖÀåµÇ¾úµíÀÌ, 'ÃÖ°í·Î ¾çÀ°µÈ
»ç¶÷µé' , ÃÖ°í·Î ±³À°¹ÞÀº »ç¶÷µé — Áï, ±³¾ç ÀÖ´Â »ç¶÷µéÀÇ ±ÇÀ§, ±×¸®°í ±×µéÀÇ ±ÇÀ§ »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó ±×µé ±ÇÀ§ÀÇ ÀüÅë — ÀÇ
ÃëÇâÀÌ´Ù. ÀÌ ÀüÅëÀº, ±×·¯³ª, ½ÉÈ÷ À߸øµÈ °ÍÀÌ´Ù, ¿Ö³ÄÇϸé 'ÃÖ°í·Î ¾çÀ° ¹ÞÀº »ç¶÷µé'ÀÇ ÆÇ´ÜÀÌ ÈçÈ÷ À߸øµÈ °ÍÀÏ »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, °ú°ÅÀÇ
¿Ã¹Ù¸¥ ÆÇ´ÜµéÀÌ ½Ã´ë¿¡ µû¶ó¼´Â ´õ ÀÌ»ó ±×·¸Áö ¾Ê±â ¶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ºñÆò°¡µéÀº, ±×µéÀÇ ÆÇ´Ü¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ¾Æ¹«·± ±Ù°ÅµéÀ» Áö´ÏÁö ¸øÇÔ¿¡µµ,
±×·¯ÇÑ °ÍµéÀ» µÇÇ®ÀÌÇϱ⸦ °áÄÚ ¸ØÃßÁö ¾Ê´Â´Ù. °í´ëÀÇ ºñ±ØÀÛ°¡µéÀº °ú°Å¿¡ ¼±ÇÑ °ÍÀ¸·Î ¿©°ÜÁ³À¸¸ç ºñÆò°¡µéÀº ¾ÆÁ÷µµ ±×°ÍµéÀ» ±×·¸°Ô ¿©±ä´Ù.
´ÜÅ×´Â À§´ëÇÑ ½ÃÀÎÀ¸·Î ¿©°ÜÁ³°í, ¶óÆÄ¿¤Àº À§´ëÇÑ È°¡·Î ¿©°ÜÁ³´Ù. ¹ÙÇÏ´Â À§´ëÇÑ À½¾Ç°¡ÀÌ´Ù, ±×¸®°í ºñÆò°¡µéÀº, ¼±ÇÑ ¿¹¼úÀ» ¾ÇÇÑ °Í°ú
±¸º°ÇÒ ¾Æ¹«·± ±âÁØÀ» °®Áö ¸øÇÑ Ã¤, ÀÌ ¿¹¼ú°¡µéÀÌ ¿©ÀüÈ÷ À§´ëÇÏ´Ù°í ¿©±æ »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ÀÌ ¿¹¼ú°¡µéÀÇ ¸ðµç ÀÛǰµéÀÌ À§´ëÇÏ¸ç ¸ð¹æÀÇ °¡Ä¡°¡
ÀÖ´Ù°í ¿©±ä´Ù. ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ´ëÇÑ Å¸¶ô¿¡ ºñÆò¿¡ ÀÇÇØ ¼¼¿öÁø ÀÌµé ±ÇÀ§µé º¸´Ù ´õ ¸¹ÀÌ ±â¿©ÇßÀ¸¸ç ¾ÆÁ÷µµ ±â¿©Çϰí ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀº ¾Æ¹«°Íµµ ¾ø´Ù. ÀþÀº
¿¹¼ú°¡´Â ÀÚ±â ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ ÀÛǰ ¾È¿¡, ¿©´À ¿¹¼ú°¡°¡ ±×·¯Çϵí, ±×°¡ °æÇèÇÑ ´À³¦µéÀ» ÀÚ±â ÀڽŠƯÀ¯ÀÇ ¹æ½Ä´ë·Î ¸¸µé¾î ³½´Ù. ´ë´Ù¼ö
¹ÎÁßÀº ¿¹¼ú°¡ÀÇ ´À³¦¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Àü¿°µÇ¸ç, ±×ÀÇ ÀÛǰÀº ¾Ë·ÁÁø´Ù. ±×·¯¸é ºñÆò°¡µéÀº, ¿¹¼ú°¡¸¦ ³íÇϸé¼, ±×ÀÇ ÀÛǰÀÌ ³ª»ÚÁö ¾Ê´Ù, ÇÏÁö¸¸ ±×´Â
±Ù·¡ÀÇ ´ÜÅ×, ½¦ÀͽºÇǾî, ±«Å×, º£Å亥¿¡ ¸ø ¹ÌÄ¡¸ç, ¶óÆÄ¿¤¿¡µµ ¹ÌÄ¡Áö ¸øÇÑ´Ù°í ¸»Çϱ⠽ÃÀÛÇÑ´Ù. ±×¸®°í ÀþÀº ¿¹¼ú°¡´Â, À̵éÀÇ Àǰߵ鿡
±Í¸¦ ±â¿ïÀ̰í¼, ±×¿¡°Ô º»º¸±âµé·Î ¼³Á¤µÈ »ç¶÷µéÀ» Èä³»³»±â ½ÃÀÛÇϸç, ¿µîÇÒ »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ¸ðÁ¶¸ç °¡Â¥ÀÎ ÀÛǰµéÀ» ¸¸µé¾î ³½´Ù. |
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So, for instance, our Pushkin writes his short poems, his Evgeniy Onegin, his Gypsies, his tales — all works of varying merit, but all works of true art. But then, influenced by false criticism extolling Shakespeare, he writes Boris Codunov, a cold, cerebral work, and the critics extol this work, call it exemplary, and imitations of the imitation begin to appear: Minin, by Ostrovsky, Tsar Boris, by Tolstoy, and others. [90] Such imitations of imitations fill all literatures with the most worthless, utterly unnecessary works. The chief harm of critics is that, as men lacking the capacity to be infected by art (and all critics are that way: if they did not lack this capacity, they would not be able to undertake the impossible interpretation of artistic works), critics give most attention and praise to cerebral, contrived works, and hold up such works as models worthy of imitation. That is why they so confidently praise the Greek tragedians, Dante, Tasso, Milton, Shakespeare, Goethe (almost everything), and, among the new ones, Zola, Ibsen, the music of Beethoven¡¯s late period, Wagner. To justify their praise of these cerebral, contrived works, they invent whole theories (the famous theory of beauty is one), and not only do dull but talented people create their works strictly in accordance with these theories, but often even true artists force themselves to comply with them. |
±×·¡¼, ¿¹·Î µé¸é, ¿ì¸®ÀÇ Çª½¬Å²Àº ±×ÀÇ ´ÜÆí ½Ãµé, ±×ÀÇ
¿¹ÇÁ°Ô´Ï ¿À³×±ä, ±×ÀÇ Áý½Ãµé, ±×ÀÇ À̾߱âµé
— ¸ðµÎ ´Ù¾çÇÑ °¡Ä¡¸¦ Áö´Ï´Â ÀÛǰµéÀÌÁö¸¸, ¸ðµÎ ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰµé — À» ÁýÇÊÇÑ´Ù. ÇÏÁö¸¸ ±×¸®°í ³ª¼, ½¦ÀͽºÇǾ Âù¾çÇÏ´Â ¾ûÅ͸®
ºñÆò¿¡ ¿µÇâÀ» ¹Þ¾Æ¼, ±×´Â º¸¸®½º ÄڵγëÇÁ¸¦ ¾²¸ç, À̰ÍÀº Â÷°©°í ÁöÀûÀÎ ÀÛǰÀ¸·Î, ºñÆò°¡µéÀº ÀÌ ÀÛǰÀ» °ÝÂùÇϸç, ÀüÇüÀûÀÎ
°ÍÀ̶ó ºÎ¸£¸ç, ¸ð¹æ¿¡ ¸ð¹æÀ» °ÅµìÇÑ °ÍµéÀÌ ³ªÅ¸³ª±â ½ÃÀÛÇÑ´Ù: ¿À½ºÆ®·Îºê½ºÅ°ÀÇ ¹Ì´Ñ, Å罺ÅäÀÌÀÇ Â¥¸£ º¸¸®½º, ¿Ü
±âŸÀÛǰµé. ±×¿Í °°Àº ¸ð¹æ¿¡ ¸ð¹æµéÀ» °ÅµìÇÑ ÀÛǰµéÀÌ ¹®ÇÐ Àü¹Ý¿¡ °ÉÃļ °¡Àå ¹«°¡Ä¡Çϰí, Áöµ¶È÷ ºÒÇÊ¿äÇÑ ÀÛǰµé·Î ä¿î´Ù. ºñÆò°¡µéÀÇ
ÁÖµÈ ÇØ¾ÇÀº, ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Àü¿°µÉ ´É·ÂÀÌ °á¿©µÈ »ç¶÷µé·Î¼ (±×¸®°í ¸ðµç ºñÆò°¡µéÀº ±×·± ½ÄÀÌ´Ù: ¸¸ÀÏ ±×°¡ ÀÌ·± ´É·ÂÀÌ °áÇ̵ÇÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù¸é,
¿¹¼úÀû ÀÛǰµé¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ºÒ°¡´ÉÇÑ ÇØ¼®À» ±âµµÇÒ ¼ö ¾øÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù), ºñÆò°¡µéÀº ÁöÀûÀÎ, Àӽú¯ÅëÀÇ ÀÛǰµé¿¡ °¡Àå ¸¹Àº °ü½É°ú ĪÂùÀ» ºÎ¿©Çϸç
±×·± ÀÛǰµéÀ» ¸ð¹æÇÒ °¡Ä¡°¡ ÀÖ´Â ¸ð¹ü ÀÛǰµé·Î Á¦½ÃÇÑ´Ù´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×°ÍÀÌ ¹Ù·Î ±×µéÀÌ ±×Åä·Ï È®½ÅÀ¸·Î °¡Áö°í ±×¸®½º ºñ±ØÀÛ°¡µé, ´ÜÅ×,
Ÿ¼Ò, ¹Ðư, ½¦ÀͽºÇǾî, ±«Å× (°ÅÀÇ ¸ðµç ÀÛǰ), ±×¸®°í ½ÅÁøÀÛ°¡µé Áß¿¡¼, Á¹¶ó, ÀÔ¼¾, ±Ù·¡ÀÇ º£Å亥ÀÇ À½¾Ç, ¹Ù±×³Ê¸¦ ĪÂùÇÏ´Â
ÀÌÀ¯ÀÌ´Ù. ÀÌ·± ÁöÀûÀ̸ç, Àӽú¯ÅëÀûÀÎ ÀÛǰµé¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ±×µéÀÇ ÄªÂùÀ» Á¤´çÈÇϱâ À§ÇØ, ¿Â°® À̷еé (À¯¸íÇÑ ¹ÌÀÇ ÀÌ·ÐÀÌ ±× Çϳª´Ù)À» ¹ß¸íÇØ
³»°í, ¿ìµÐÇÑ »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó Àç´É ÀÖ´Â »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ¾ö°ÝÈ÷ À̵é À̷е鿡 ÀǰÅÇÏ¿© ±×µéÀÇ ÀÛǰµéÀ» âÁ¶Çϰí ÀÖÀ¸¸ç, ÇÏÁö¸¸ ½ÉÁö¾î ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼ú°¡µéµµ
±×°Íµé¿¡ ¹ß¸ÂÃß·Á ¾Ö¾²°í ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
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Every false work praised by the critics is a doorway through which burst the hypocrites of art. |
ºñÆò°¡µé¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Ī¼Û ¹Þ´Â ¸ðµç °ÅÁþ ÀÛǰÀº ¿¹¼úÀÇ À§¼±ÀÚµéÀÌ ÅÍÁ®
³ª¿À´Â ÃâÀÔ±¸´Ù. |
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It is only thanks to the critics who, in our time, praise the crude, savage, and for us often meaningless works of the ancient Greeks: Sophocles, Euripides, Aeschylus, and especially Aristophanes; or the moderns: Dante, Tasso, Milton, Shakespeare; in painting, all of Raphael, all of Michelangelo, with his absurd Last Judgement; in music, all of Bach and all of Beethoven, including his late period — it is only thanks to these critics that in our time, too, the Ibsens, Maeterlincks, Verlaines, Mallarmés, Puvis de Chavannes, Klingers, Bocklins, Stucks, Schneiders, and, in music, the Wagners, Liszts, Berliozes, Brahmses, Richard Strausses, et al., and the whole enormous mass of imitators of these imitators became possible. |
ÀÌ´Â ¿À·ÎÁö ¿ì¸® ½Ã´ë¿¡ ÀÖ¾î¼ ¿ÀÁ÷ õ¹ÚÇϰí, ¾ß¸¸ÀûÀÎ, ±×¸®°í
¿ì¸®¿¡°Ô´Â Á¾Á¾ ¹«ÀǹÌÇÑ, °í´ë ±×¸®½ºÀεé
—
¼ÒÆ÷Ŭ·¹½º, À¯¸®Çǵ¥½º, ¿¡½ºÅ³·ç½º, ¹× ƯÈ÷ ¾Æ¸®½ºÅäÆÄ³×½º
—
ÀÇ; ȤÀº Çö´ëÀεé
— ´Üü, Ÿ¼Ò, ¹Ðư, ½¦ÀͽºÇÇ¾î — ÀÇ; ¹Ì¼ú¿¡¼, ¶óÆÄ¿¤ÀÇ ¸ðµç ÀÛǰµé, ¾óÅä´çÅä¾ÊÀº ÃÖÈÄÀÇ ½ÉÆÇÀÇ ¹ÌÄ̶õÁ©·ÎÀÇ ¸ðµç
ÀÛǰµé, ¹ÙÇÏÀÇ ¸ðµç ÀÛǰµé ¹× ÃÖ±ÙÀÇ °ÍµéÀ» Æ÷ÇÔÇÏ¿© º£Å亥ÀÇ ¸ðµç ÀÛǰµéÀ» μÛÇÏ´Â ºñÆò°¡µé ´öÅÃÀÌ´Ù
— ÀÌ´Â ¿À·ÎÁö ¿ì¸® ½Ã´ë¿¡ ÀÖ¾î¼ ¿ª½Ã ¹Ù·Î ÀÌµé ºñÆò°¡µé·Î ÀÎÇØ¼, ÀÔ¼¾ , ¸¶Å͸µÅ©, º£¸¦·», ¸»¶ó¸£¸Þ, ÇǺñ µå »þ¹Ýµå,
Ŭ¸µÄ¿, º¸Å©¸°½º, ½ºÆ£½º, ½¬³ªÀÌ´õ dzµéÀÌ, ±×¸®°í À½¾Ç¿¡¼, ¹Ù±×³Ê, ¸®½ºÆ®, º£¸¦¸®¿ÀÁî, ºê¶÷½º, ¸®Â÷µå ½´Æ®¶ó¿ì½º dzµé µîµî, ±×¸®°í
ÀÌ·± ¸ð¹æÀÚµéÀ» ¸ð¹æÇÏ´Â ÀÚµéÀÇ ¾öû³ Àüü ´ëÁßµéÀÌ °¡´ÉÇÏ°Ô µÇ¾ú´Ù. |
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The best illustration of the harmful influence of criticism may be its attitude towards Beethoven. Among his countless works, often written hastily, on commission, there are some artistic works as well, despite their artificiality of form; but he is growing deaf, he cannot hear and is beginning to write totally contrived, unfinished and therefore often meaningless, musically incomprehensible works. I know that musicians can imagine sounds quite vividly and almost hear what they read; but imaginary sounds can never replace real ones, and every composer must hear his work in order to put the finishing touch to it. Beethoven could not hear and could not put the finishing touch to his works, and so he released into the world what amounts to artistic gibberish. Yet criticism, having once recognized him as a great composer, finds particular joy in latching on precisely to these ugly works, seeking extraordinary beauties in them. And to justify its own praises, it perverts the very idea of musical art by ascribing to it the property of portraying what it cannot portray; and imitators appear, a numberless host of imitators of these ugly attempts at works of art created by the deaf Beethoven. |
ºñÆòÀÇ ÇØ·Î¿î ¿µÇâÀÇ °¡Àå ÁÁÀº ¿¹´Â º£Å亥À» ÇâÇÑ ÅµµÀÏ °ÍÀÌ´Ù.
±×ÀÇ ¼ö¸¹Àº ÀÛǰµé °¡¿îµ¥´Â, Á¾Á¾ ÁÖ¹®À» ¹Þ¾Æ¼ Ȳ±ÞÈ÷ ¾²¿©Áø °Íµéµµ ÀÖÁö¸¸, ±×°ÍµéÀÇ Çü½Ä¿¡ ¾ïÁö°¡ ÀÖÀ½¿¡µµ ºÒ±¸Çϰí, ÀϺΠ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰµéµµ ÀÖ´Ù;
±×·¯³ª ±×´Â ±Í°¡ ¸Ô¾î°¡°í, µéÀ» ¼ö ¾øÀ¸¸ç ÀüÀûÀ¸·Î Â¥¸ÂÃß¾î¼ ¹Ì¿Ï¼ºÀ¸·Î ÀÛ¼ºÇϱ⠽ÃÀÛÇϰí ÀÖÀ¸¸ç, ±×·¯¹Ç·Î Á¾Á¾ ¹«ÀǹÌÇϸç, À½¾ÇÀûÀ¸·Î ÀÌÇØÇϱ⠾î·Á¿î
ÀÛǰµéÀ» ¾²±â ½ÃÀÛÇϰí ÀÖ´Ù. ³ª´Â À½¾Ç°¡µéÀÌ ¼Ò¸®µéÀ» ¸Å¿ì »ý»ýÇÏ°Ô »ó»óÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖÀ¸¸ç ±×µéÀÌ Àд °ÍÀ» °ÅÀÇ µéÀ» ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ¾Ë°í
ÀÖ´Ù; ±×·¯³ª »ó»óÀÇ ¼Ò¸®µéÀº °áÄÚ ½ÇÁ¦ ¼Ò¸®µéÀ» ´ëüÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù, ±×¸®°í °¢±â ÀÛ°î°¡µéÀº ±×°Í¿¡ ¸¶¹«¸® ¼ÕÁúÀ» °¡Çϱâ À§ÇØ ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ ÀÛǰÀ»
µéÀ» ¼ö ÀÖ¾î¾ß¸¸ ÇÑ´Ù. º£Å亥Àº µéÀ» ¼ö°¡ ¾ø¾ú°í ±×ÀÇ ÀÛǰµé¿¡ ¸¶¹«¸® ¼ÕÁúÀ» °¡ÇÒ ¼ö°¡ ¾ø¾ú´Ù, ±×·¡¼ ¿¹¼úÀûÀÎ ÁöÀý°Å¸²¿¡ ÇÊÀûÇÏ´Â °ÍÀ»
¼¼»ó¿¡ ¹ßÇ¥ÇÏ¿´´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ºñÆòÀº, ÀÏ´Ü ±×¸¦ À§´ëÇÑ ÀÛ°î°¡·Î ÀÎÁ¤ÇÏ°í ³ªÀÚ, À̵é ÃßÇÑ ÀÛǰµé¿¡ Á¤È®È÷ ¹°°í ´Ã¾î Áö´Â °Í¿¡ Ưº°ÇÑ
Áñ°Å¿òÀ» ãÀ¸¸ç, ±×°Íµé ¾È¿¡ ºñ¹üÇÑ ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿òµéÀ» ã°í ÀÖ´Ù. ±×¸®°í ºñÆòÀº ±×µé ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ ÄªÂùµéÀ» Á¤´çÈÇϱâ À§ÇØ, À½¾Ç ¿¹¼úÀÇ °³³ä ÀÚü¿¡
¹¦»çÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Â °ÍÀ» ¹¦»çÇϴ Ư¼ºÀ» ºÎ¿©ÇÔÀ¸·Î½á ¿Ö°î½Ã۰í; ±×¸®°í ¸ð¹æÀÚµéÀÌ, Áï, ±Í¸Ó°Å¸® º£Å亥¿¡ ÀÇÇØ âÀÛµÈ ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰÀ» ÇâÇÑ
ÀÌÅä·Ï ÃßÇÑ ½Ãµµ¸¦ ÇÏ´Â ¹«¼öÈ÷ ¸¹Àº ¸ð¹æÀÚµéÀÌ, µîÀåÇÑ´Ù. |
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And so Wagner appears, who first of all praises Beethoven in his critical articles, precisely the Beethoven of the late period, and establishes a connection between his music and the mystical theory of Schopenhauer (as absurd as Beethoven¡¯s music itself) that music is the expression of the will — not particular expressions of the will at various stages of objectivization, but of its very essence — and then, following this theory, he writes his own music, in connection with the still more false system of the unity of all the arts. And after Wagner there appear more new imitators, still further removed from art: the Brahmses, the Richard Strausses and others. |
±×¸®°í ÀÌ·¸°Ô ¹Ù±×³Ê°¡ µîÀåÇÑ´Ù, ±×¸®°í ±×´Â Á¦ÀÏ ¸ÕÀú ±×ÀÇ ºñÆò
³í¹®µé¿¡¼ º£Å亥À», ±×¸®°í Á¤È®È÷ ÃÖ±Ù ½Ã±âÀÇ º£Å亥ÀÇ ÀÛǰµéÀ» Âù¾çÇϸç, ±×ÀÇ À½¾Ç°ú (º£Å亥ÀÇ À½¾Ç ÀÚü ¸¸ÅÀ̳ª Ȳ´çÇÑ) 'À½¾ÇÀº
ÀÇÁöÀÇ Ç¥Çö' — °´°üÈÀÇ ´Ù¾çÇÑ ´Ü°èµé¿¡ ÀÖ´Â ÀÇÁö°¡ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, À½¾ÇÀÇ º»Áú ÀÚüÀÇ
ƯÁ¤ÇÑ Ç¥Çöµé —
À̶ó´Â ¼îÆæÇÏ¿ì¾îÀÇ ½ÅºñÁÖÀÇ ÀÌ·Ð »çÀÌÀÇ °ü°è¸¦ È®¸³½Ã۰í, ±×¸®°í ³ª¸é ÀÌ ÀÌ·ÐÀ» µû¶ó¼, ¸ðµç ¿¹¼úµé Áß¿¡¼ ÈξÀ ´õ À§¼±ÀûÀÎ ÅëÀÏ
ü°è¸¦ °áºÎ½ÃÄÑ ÀÚ±â ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ À½¾ÇÀ» ÀÛ°îÇÑ´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ µÚ¸¦ ÀÌ¾î ´õ¿í »õ·Î¿î ¸ð¹æÀÚµéÀÌ ³ªÅ¸³ª°í, ÇÑÃþ ´õ ¿¹¼ú·ÎºÎÅÍ ¸Ö¾îÁø´Ù:
ºê¶÷½ºÁÖÀÇÀÚµé, ¸®Â÷µå ½´Æ®¶ó¿ì½ºÁÖÀÇÀÚµé µîµî. |
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Such are the consequences of criticism. But the third condition of the perversion of art — schools that teach art — is hardly less harmful. |
ÀÌ·¯ÇÑ °ÍµéÀÌ ¹Ù·Î ºñÆòÀÇ °á°úµéÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ¿¹¼úÀÇ ¿Ö°îÀÇ ¼¼
¹øÂ° »óȲ
—¿¹¼úÀ» °¡¸£Ä¡´Â Çб³µé —
Àº °áÄÚ ´ú ÇØ·Î¿î °ÍÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï´Ù. |
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As soon as art became art not for the whole people but for the wealthy class, it became a profession, and as soon as it became a profession, methods were developed for teaching this profession, and those who chose art as their profession began to study these methods, and so professional schools appeared: classes of rhetoric or literature in public schools, academies of painting, conservatories of music, schools of dramatic art. |
¿¹¼úÀÌ Àüü ¹ÎÁßÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó ºÎÀ¯ÇÑ °è±ÞÀ» À§ÇÑ ¿¹¼úÀÌ µÇÀÚ ¸¶ÀÚ,
±×°ÍÀº Á÷¾÷ÀÌ µÇ¾úÀ¸¸ç, ±×°ÍÀÌ Á÷¾÷ÀÌ µÇÁö ¸¶ÀÚ, ÀÌ Á÷¾÷À» °¡¸£Ä¡±â À§ÇÑ ¹æ¹ýµéÀÌ °³¹ßµÇ¾ú°í, ¿¹¼úÀ» ±×µéÀÇ Á÷¾÷À¸·Î ¼±ÅÃÇÑ »ç¶÷µéÀº ÀÌ
°°Àº ¹æ¹ýµéÀ» ¿¬±¸Çϱ⠽ÃÀÛÇß°í, ±×¸®ÇÏ¿© Á÷¾÷ Çб³µéÀÌ µîÀåÇß´Ù: °ø¸³ Çб³µéÀÇ ¼ö»çÇРȤÀº ¹®ÇÐ Çб޵é, ¹Ì¼ú Çб³µé, À½ÇÐ Çб³µé,
¿¬±Ø Çб³µé. |
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In these schools art is being taught. But art consists of conveying to others the special feeling experienced by an artist. How can this be taught in schools? |
ÀÌ Çб³µé¿¡¼ ¿¹¼úÀÌ °¡¸£ÃÄ Áö°í ÀÖ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ¿¹¼úÀº ¿¹¼ú°¡¿¡
ÀÇÇØ °æÇèµÈ Ưº°ÇÑ ´À³¦À» ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô Àü´ÞÇÔ¿¡ ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
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No school can call up feelings in a man, and still less can it teach a man what is the essence of art: the manifestation of feeling in his own peculiar fashion. |
¾î¶² Çб³µµ »ç¶÷ÀÇ ¸¶À½¿¡ ´À³¦µéÀ» ºÒ·¯ ÀÏÀ¸Å³ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù, ´õ¿íÀÌ
±×°ÍÀº ¿¹¼úÀÇ º»Áú
—
ÀÚ±â ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ Æ¯ÀÌÇÑ ¸ð½ÀÀ¸·Î ´À³¦À» Ç¥ÃâÇÏ´Â °Í
—
À» »ç¶÷¿¡°Ô °¡¸£Ä¥ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù. |
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The one thing a school can teach is how to convey feelings experienced by other artists in the way that these other artists conveyed them. Precisely this is what is taught in art schools, and this education not only does not contribute to the spread of true art, but, on the contrary, by spreading artistic counterfeits, more than anything else it deprives people of the ability to understand true art. |
Çб³°¡ °¡¸£Ä¥ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â ÇÑ °¡Áö´Â ´Ù¸¥ ¿¹¼ú°¡µé¿¡ ÀÇÇØ °æÇèµÈ
´À³¦µéÀ» ÀÌµé ´Ù¸¥ ¿¹¼ú°¡µéÀÌ ±×µé¿¡°Ô Àü´ÞÇÑ ´ë·Î Àü´ÞÇÏ´Â ¹æ¹ýÀÌ´Ù. Á¤È®ÀÌ ¸»ÇÏÀÚ¸é À̰ÍÀÌ ¹Ù·Î ¿¹¼ú Çб³µé¿¡¼ °¡¸£ÃÄÁö´Â °ÍÀ̸ç, ÀÌ·±
±³À°Àº ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼úÀÇ ÀüÆÄ¿¡ ±â¿©ÇÏÁö ¾ÊÀ» »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ¹Ý´ë·Î, ¿¹¼úÀûÀÎ ¸ðÁ¶Ç°µéÀ» ÀüÆÄÇÔÀ¸·Î½á, ¹«¾ùº¸´Ù ¸ÕÀú »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô¼ ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼úÀ»
ÀÌÇØÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â ´É·ÂÀ» ¾Ñ¾Æ°¡ ¹ö¸°´Ù. |
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In literary art, people who have no wish to say anything are taught the skill of writing a many-paged composition on a topic they have never thought about, and of writing it so that it resembles the writing of authors recognized as famous. This is taught in the public schools. |
¹®ÇÐ ¿¹¼ú¿¡¼, ¾Æ¹« °Íµµ ¸»ÇÏ°í ½ÍÁö ¾ÊÀº »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ±×µéÀÌ ÀüÇô
»ý°¢ÇØ º¸Áö ¾Ê¾Ò´ø ÁÖÁ¦µé¿¡ ´ëÇØ ¿©·¯ ÆäÀÌÁö³ª µÇ´Â ÀÛ¹®À» ÇàÇÏ´Â ±â¼úÀ» ±³À°¹Þ´Â´Ù, ±×¸®°í ÀÌ·¸°Ô ÀÛ¹®À» ÇÔÀ¸·Î½á À¯¸íÇÏ´Ù°í ÀÎÁ¤µÈ
ÀÛ°¡µéÀÇ ÀÛ¹ýÀ» ´à´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. À̰ÍÀº °ø¸³ Çб³µé¿¡¼ °¡¸£ÃÄÁø´Ù. |
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In painting, the main education consists of drawing and painting from life and nature, mainly the naked body — precisely what one never sees and what a man occupied with real art hardly ever has to portray — and of drawing and painting it in the same way as earlier masters did; the composition of paintings is taught by giving subjects similar to those treated by earlier recognized celebrities. So, too, in the schools of dramatic art, the students are taught to deliver monologues in exactly the same way they were delivered by tragic actors considered famous. So, too, in music. The whole theory of music is nothing but an incoherent repetition of the methods that recognized masters of composition used to create their own music. I have already quoted elsewhere a profound saying on art from the Russian painter Briullov, [91] but I cannot refrain from quoting it again, because it shows best of all what can and cannot be taught in schools. Correcting a student¡¯s sketch, Briullov touched it up a little here and there, and the poor, dead sketch suddenly came to life. ¡®Why, you just touched it up a little bit, and everything changed,¡¯ said one of the students. ¡®Art begins where that little bit begins,¡¯ said Briullov, expressing in these words the most characteristic feature of art. This observation holds for all the arts, but its correctness is especially noticeable in musical performances. For a musical performance to be artistic, to be art — that is, to produce infection — three main conditions must be observed (besides which there are many other conditions necessary for musical perfection: that the transition from sound to sound be abrupt or blended, that the sound increase or diminish gradually, that it combine with one sound and not with another, that the sound have this and not that timbre, and many more things). But let us take three main conditions: the pitch, the duration and the intensity of the sound. A musical performance is art and can infect only when the sound is neither higher nor lower than it ought to be — that is, the infinitely small centre of the required note must be played — and it must have exactly the necessary duration, and the intensity of the sound must be neither stronger nor weaker than is necessary. The least deviation in the pitch of the sound one way or the other, the least lengthening or shortening of the duration, and the least strengthening or weakening of the sound as compared with what is required, destroys the perfection of the performance and, consequently, the infectiousness of the work. So that we can be infected by the art of music, something that would seem so simply and easily achieved, only if the performer finds those infinitely small moments required for musical perfection. It is the same in all the arts: a little bit lighter, a little bit darker, a little bit higher, lower, to the right, to the left — in painting; a little bit weaker or stronger in intonation, a little bit too early or too late — in dramatic art; in poetry — a little bit too much said, or not said, or exaggerated, and there is no infection. Infection is achieved only when and in so far as the artist finds those infinitely small moments of which the work of art is composed. |
¹Ì¼ú¿¡¼, Áß½ÉÀÌ µÇ´Â ±³À°Àº »î°ú ÀÚ¿¬, ÁÖ·Î ¹ú°Å¹þÀº ¸ö
— Á¤È®È÷ ¸»Çؼ ¿ì¸®°¡ °áÄÚ º¸Áö ¸øÇÏ´Â °Í ±×¸®°í ½ÇÁ¦ ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ¸ôµÎÇØ ÀÖ´Â »ç¶÷Àº °ÅÀÇ ±×¸± °ÍÀÌ ¾ø´Â °Í — À»
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And it is absolutely impossible to teach someone in any external fashion how to find these infinitely small moments: they are found only when a man gives himself to his feeling. No education can bring a dancer to follow the exact beat of the music, or a singer or violinist to strike the infinitely small centre of a note, or a draughts¡©man to draw the only necessary line out of all possible lines, or a poet to find the only necessary arrangement of the only necessary words. Feeling alone can do that. And therefore schools can teach what is required for creating something resembling art, but never art itself. |
±×¸®°í ´©±º°¡¿¡°Ô ¾î¶² ¿ÜÇüÀûÀÎ ¹æ¹ýÀ¸·Î ÀÌ °°Àº ¹«ÇÑÈ÷ ÀÛÀº
¼ø°£µéÀ» ã´Â ¹æ¹ýÀ» °¡¸£Ä£´Ù´Â °ÍÀº Àý´ëÀûÀ¸·Î ºÒ°¡´ÉÇÏ´Ù: ±×°ÍµéÀº ±× »ç¶÷ÀÌ ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ ´À³¦¿¡ ºüÁ®µé ¶§¿¡ ºñ·Î¼Ò ¹ß°ßµÇ´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ¾î¶²
±³À°µµ ¹«¿ë¼ö°¡ Á¤È®ÇÑ À½¾Ç ¼Ò¸®¸¦ µû¸£µµ·Ï À̲ø°Å³ª, ȤÀº °¡¼ö ȤÀº ¹ÙÀ̿ø®´Ï½ºÆ®°¡ ¹«ÇÑÈ÷ ÀÛÀº À½Ç¥ÀÇ Áß°£À» ¼Ò¸® ³»°Ô Çϰųª, ȤÀº
Ȱ¡·Î ÇÏ¿©±Ý ¸ðµç °¡´ÉÇÑ ¼±µé Áß¿¡¼ ¿ÀÁ÷ ÇÊ¿äÇÑ ¼± ¸¸À» ±ß°Ô Çϰųª, ȤÀº ½ÃÀο¡°Ô ¿ÀÁ÷ ÇÊ¿äÇÑ ´Ü¾îµéÀÇ ¿ÀÁ÷ ÇÊ¿äÇÑ ¹è¿¸¸À» ã°Ô ÇÒ
¼ö´Â ¾ø´Ù. ´À³¦ ¸¸ÀÌ ±×·¸°Ô ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù. ±×¸®°í ±×·¯¹Ç·Î Çб³µéÀº ¿¹¼úÀ» ´àÀº ¾î¶² °ÍÀ» ¸¸µé¾î ³»´Âµ¥ ÇÊ¿äÇÑ °ÍÀ» °¡¸£Ä¥ ¼ö ÀÖÁö¸¸
¿¹¼ú ÀÚü´Â °¡¸£Ä¥ ¼ö´Â ¾ø´Ù. |
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School education stops where the little bit begins — and therefore where art begins. |
Çб³ ±³À°Àº Á¶±ÝÀÌ ½ÃÀÛÇÏ´Â °÷¿¡¼ ¸ØÃá´Ù
— ±×·¯¹Ç·Î, ¿¹¼úÀº ±×°÷¿¡¼ ½ÃÀ۵ȴÙ. |
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Accustoming people to what resembles art makes them unaccustomed to understanding true art. As a result, there are no people duller with regard to art than those who have gone through professional schools of art and have been most successful in them. These professional schools produce a hypocrisy of art of exactly the same sort as the religious hypocrisy produced by schools that educate pastors and various kinds of religious teachers. As it is impossible to educate a man at school to be a religious teacher of men, so it is impossible to teach a man to be an artist.
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»ç¶÷µé·Î ÇÏ¿©±Ý ¿¹¼úÀ» ´àÀº °Í¿¡ Àͼ÷Çϵµ·Ï ¸¸µå´Â °ÍÀº ±×µéÀÌ
ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼úÀ» ÀÌÇØÇÔ¿¡ Àͼ÷ÇÏÁö ¾Êµµ·Ï ¸¸µç´Ù. °á±¹, Á÷¾÷ ¿¹¼úÇб³µéÀ» °ÅÃÆ°Å³ª ±×°÷µé¿¡¼ °¡Àå ¼º°øÀûÀÎ »ç¶÷µé º¸´Ù ´õ ¿¹¼ú¿¡ °üÇÑ ÇÑ
µÐÇÑ »ç¶÷µéÀº ¾ø´Ù. À̵é Á÷¾÷ Çб³µéÀº ¸ñȸÀÚµé ȤÀº ´Ù¾çÇÑ Á¾·ùÀÇ Á¾±³ ±³»çµéÀ» °¡¸£Ä¡´Â Çб³µé¿¡¼ ¾ç¼ºÇÑ Á¾±³Àû À§¼±ÀÚµé°ú Á¤È®È÷ °°Àº
Á¾·ùÀÇ ¿¹¼úÀÇ À§¼±ÀÚµéÀ» ¾ç¼ºÇÑ´Ù. ¾î¶² »ç¶÷À» Çб³¿¡¼ »ç¶÷µéÀÇ Á¾±³ ±³»ç°¡ µÇ±â¸¦ °¡¸£Ä¡´Â °ÍÀÌ ºÒ°¡´ÉÇÑ °Íó·³, ¾î¶² »ç¶÷ÀÌ ¿¹¼ú°¡°¡
µÇµµ·Ï °¡¸£Ä¡´Â °ÍÀº ºÒ°¡´ÉÇÏ´Ù. |
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Thus art schools are doubly pernicious for art: first, by destroying the capacity to produce real art in people who have the misfortune of attending these schools for seven or eight years of study; secondly, because they multiply by enormous quantities that counterfeit art which perverts the taste of the masses and with which our world is filled to overflowing. For people who are born artists to learn the methods of the various kinds of art which have been developed by earlier artists, there should exist classes of drawing, music and singing in all primary schools, after the completion of which every gifted student, by making use of existing and generally available models, could perfect himself independently in his art. |
±×¸®ÇÏ¿© ¿¹¼ú Çб³µéÀº ¿¹¼úÀ» À§Çؼ µÎ ¹è³ª ÇØ·Î¿î °ÍÀÌ´Ù:
ù°, Ä¥ ³â ȤÀº ÆÈ ³âÀÇ ¼öÇÐ ±â°£ µ¿¾È À̵é Çб³µé¿¡ ´Ù´Ï´Â ºÒÇàÀ» °Þ´Â »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô¼ ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼úÀ» ¸¸µé¾î ³¾ ¿ª·®À» ÆÄ±«Çϱ⿡; µÑ°,
±×µéÀÌ ¾öû³ ¾çÀ¸·Î ¹ÎÁßµéÀÇ ÃëÇâÀ» ¿Ö°î½ÃŰ´Â ¸ðÁ¶ ¿¹¼úÀ» ¾ç»êÇÏ¸ç ±×°Íµé·Î ¿ì¸® ¼¼»ó¿¡ ä¿öÁ®¼ ³ÑÃijª±â ¶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù. °ú°ÅÀÇ ¿¹¼ú°¡µé¿¡
ÀÇÇØ °³¹ßµÇ¾î ¿Â ´Ù¾çÇÑ Á¾·ùÀÇ ¿¹¼ú ±â¹ýµéÀ» ¹è¿ì°íÀÚ Çϴ Ÿ°í³ ¿¹¼ú°¡µéÀÎ »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô´Â ÃʵîÇб³µé¿¡¼ ±×¸®±â, À½¾Ç ¹× ³ë·¡Çϱ⠼ö¾÷µéÀÌ
ÀÖÀ¸¸ç, À̰ÍÀ» ¸¶Ä£ µÚ¿¡´Â °¢ÀÚ Àç´É ÀÖ´Â ÇлýÀº, ±âÁ¸ÀÇ ¹× ÀϹÝÀûÀ¸·Î ÀÌ¿ë °¡´ÉÇÑ ¸ðµ¨µéÀ» Ȱ¿ëÇÔÀ¸·Î½á, °³º°ÀûÀ¸·Î ±×ÀÇ ¿¹¼ú ¾È¿¡¼
ÀÚ½ÅÀ» ¿Ï¼º½Ãų ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù. |
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These three conditions — the professionalism of artists, criticism, and schools of art — are what have led to the present situation when the majority of people have absolutely no understanding of what art even is, and mistake for art the most crude counterfeits of it. |
ÀÌ ¼¼°¡Áö »óŵé
— ¿¹¼ú°¡µéÀÇ Á÷¾÷ÁÖÀÇ, ºñÆò ¹× ¿¹¼ú Çб³µé — ÀÌ ¹Ù·Î ´ë´Ù¼ö »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ½ÉÁö¾î ¿¹¼úÀÌ ¹«¾ùÀÎÁö ÀüÇô ¾Æ¹«·± ÀÌÇØ¸¦
°®Áö ¸øÇÏ°Ô ÇÏ¸ç ¿¹¼úÀÇ °¡Àå õ¹ÚÇÑ ¸ðÁ¶Ç°µéÀ» ¿¹¼ú·Î ¿ÀÀÎÇÏ´Â ÇöÀçÀÇ »óÅ·Π³»¸ô°Ô ÇÑ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
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[Home]
[Up]
[Contents]
[Preface]
[Bibliographical Note]
[A Note on the Text]
[WHAT IS ART?]
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX
[CONCLUSION]
[Appendix I]
[Appendix II]
[Notes]
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