Marietta Elliott-Kleerkoper
It was Darwin who first proposed an evolutionary theory of beauty. He surmised that art fulfilled two evolutionary functions. In respect of general selection, beauty is related to fitness. It also plays a part in sexual selection: the female selects the male on the basis of aesthetic criteria: think, for example, of the peacock’s tail, the bowerbird’s nest.
Mithen has detailed how early humans practised various ‘art forms’, such as hand axes which were never used for chopping, but, it is assumed, were used as displays of skill. He also presents evidence to show that various forms of art, in particular music and dance, performed other useful functions, such as bonding within communities.
However, Welsch has warned against an overly reductionist view of the ‘art instinct’:
The properties of the lower stages do not in all cases provide sufficient means to understand what's going on at the higher level.
It is only very recently, in evolutionary terms, that we have been separating art forms from the daily life of communities and archiving it in museums and galleries. And much of what we might term modern abstract art does not fit the definition of what the early humans found beautiful, supposedly related to an environment promising sustenance. Thus, while the aesthetic sense was originally linked to sexual pleasure, it has developed into another kind of pleasure not necessarily linked to sex.
We should also consider how much of the theory of the ‘art instinct’ is based on conjecture, given the difficulty of ascertaining what actually went on hundreds of thousands of years ago.
I’m looking forward to our discussion!
The Singing Neanderthals: The Origins of Music, Language, Mind and Body by Steven Mithen. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 2005.
See also review of this book by Ellen Dissanayake in Evolutionary Psychology 2005/3. This author has many other books and article on the topic.
‘Animal Aesthetics’, Wolfgang Welsch (Just google the title).
If you want more, just google ‘Art Instinct’!
Art Instinct?
Marietta Elliott-Kleerkoper
Animal Kingdom
It was Darwin who first proposed an evolutionary theory of beauty. He surmised that art fulfilled two evolutionary functions. In respect of general selection, beauty is related to fitness. It also plays a part in sexual selection: the female selects the male on the basis of aesthetic criteria: think, for example, of the peacock’s tail, the bowerbird’s nest.
Mithen has reported that various types of monkeys uttered calls which were rhythmic and musical, and which seemed to be used in communication, as well as in the ‘resolution of emotional conflicts’.
Whilst we don’t know what aesthetic criteria might determine the response of birds, it is interesting that whilst there are some bird calls which are ugly to our ears, a remarkable number are also beautiful to us. You’ve only got to look at poetry: e.g. Keats’ Ode to a Nightingale.
It seems that animals, like humans, have definite musical preferences. A recent Catalyst program reported on an experiment: Dr Jonica Newby played three different kinds of music to dogs in a pound to see their reactions. Heavy metal provoked lots of activity, barking &, pop had no detectable effect and classical calmed them. Certain instruments had some of them howling. The theory is that the purpose of howling is to communicate across distances between members of the pack and also for bonding. When they howl, they all choose different frequencies, to maximise the cacophony. That way, it sounds as if there are more of them. One dog made a horrible noise when his owner was playing Bruce Springsteen. When owners were asked about their dogs’ preferences, these were all different, but it did seem they had preferences.
Howling is actually a form of communication. It may begin with a slightly higher pitch before moving to the main tone, and sometimes the pitch may lower toward the end of the howl. It has a sonorous, mournful sound to the human ear.
When I apply this kind of evidence to my own response to various forms of art, I do find music and poetry in particular can have, at different times, either a soothing or a stimulating effect. And perhaps different situations call for different emotional responses. Think of lullabies versus military music.
Whilst we should not, of course, exaggerate the similarities between animals and humans, the notion of an aesthetic instinct in animals is an exciting one and has emphasised once again that even behaviour traditionally considered the exclusive domain of human civilisation seems to be present in animals in embryonic form.
Early Humans
Whilst early hominids could not engage in human type speech, they developed a form of communication that was ‘holistic, multi-modal, manipulative & musical’. Music and dance were also related to sexual attraction. Mithen presents evidence that whilst the Neanderthals were ‘linguistically challenged’, they were musically talented – he believes they all had perfect pitch – (I understand that babies are born with perfect pitch but most people lose this talent because it is not generally considered useful. I have perfect pitch.) but as later humans developed language, their musical abilities declined. (I have spoken to several art therapists working with dementia patients: it seems that as their linguistic abilities decline, they often turn to art or music and are able to meaningfully engage in these activities.)
Another form of display, as evidence of skill, were tools, such as hand axes, which showed no evidence that they were ever used for chopping, leading to the conclusion that they were aesthetic objects in their own right (Are we justified in coming to such a conclusion?). Mithen also presents evidence to show that various forms of art, in particular music and dance, performed other useful functions, such as bonding within communities. This seems fairly obvious.
According to Dissanayake, art is a form of human behaviour which goes beyond the making and enjoying of art. All human societies have art, and in earlier societies the whole community joined in, particularly in singing and dancing. Art was related to ritual and religion: Dissanayake calls it ‘making things special’. She suggests that the whole concept of ‘meaning’ is in fact aesthetic.
Dissanayake has made a particular study of mother-child interaction and believes that the ‘role of musical sound and movement in expressing and inducing emotional states…jointly maintained communicative interactions that produced and sustained positive affect – reproductive advantage.’
The influence of culture: the practice of art in contemporary life.
According to Denis Dutton, based again on a Darwinian concept of evolution, our human concept of beauty is not merely in the eye of the beholder. The kind of landscape considered ‘beautiful’ consists of open spaces, low grasses, trees, water, animal/bird life, a path extending into distance. These features are beneficial to survival. Dissanayake has suggested that ‘regular shapes seem to be inherent in the process of visual perception’ and ‘geometric shapes have a direct neurophysiological basis.’
However, Welsch has warned against an overly reductionist view of the ‘art instinct’:
‘The properties of the lower stages do not in all cases provide sufficient means to understand what's going on at the higher level.’
It is only very recently, in evolutionary terms, that we have been separating art forms from the daily life of communities and archiving it in museums and galleries. And much of what we might term modern abstract art does not fit the definition of what the early humans found beautiful, supposedly related to an environment promising sustenance. Thus, while the aesthetic sense was originally linked to sexual pleasure, it has developed into another kind of pleasure not necessarily linked to sex. Dissanayake makes an interesting distinction between a ‘proximate’ and an ‘ultimate’ function. She points out that not everything needs to serve the ‘ultimate’ i.e. the ‘survivor’ function. And pleasure provides its own stimulus, regardless of its origin. So listening to beautiful music might, for some people, provide just as much pleasure as sex.
This raises the ‘So what?’ question: How much does the fact that art may have served some evolutionary function in the distant past matter to us today? Does it have an influence on the way in which we practise art in contemporary society? Does it influence aesthetic judgement? Or has art, as it is practised today, both by those who make art and by those who consume art, come adrift from its origins and is it now largely determined by cultural factors? Given that the art budget is usually the first to suffer cuts, how much does art matter any more?
Dissanayake certainly bemoans the fact that art no longer occupies the place in human society it once did. She seems to be looking back at some indeterminate distant past, and what she most misses is the place aesthetic practice (but remember that had a very different and much broader meaning) was more tightly integrated into everyday life:
‘It seems worth asking whether the confusing and unsatisfying state of art in our world has anything to do with the fact that we no longer care about important things.’
I can’t agree. Surely the way art is now is just part of the same process, as we continue to adapt to a changing situation. So it is not that art is less satisfying, but that the place of art in our world is continually changing. For example, the fact that photography has changed the purpose of portraiture doesn’t mean that portraiture is less important, but that it has become an interpretation of the sitter rather than a representation of the sitter.
The other thing I can’t agree with is that art does not play an important part in our society today. In my own case, the practice of writing and sharing poetry at all kinds of amateur and professional levels, without a sharp and invidious divide between these two levels, is alive and well. And there are new art forms being invented all the time: for example, slam poetry and rap, and with the development of digital photography, even I can produce a halfway decent photograph.
A further open question relates to whether an evolutionary theory of art and its place in human development presupposes aesthetic universals, and, if so, how are cultural differences to be explained? Dissanayake in fact does not see a contradiction between biology and culture:
‘… culture is the way groups of hominids adapted to their environment.’
She even suggests a liking for novelty and experimentation, departing from the regular form is also hard-wired.
I think this might just be a bit too convenient. That’s the trouble with grand theories: everything has to fit.
Finally, we should consider how much of the theory of the ‘art instinct’ is based on conjecture, given the difficulty of ascertaining what actually went on hundreds of thousands of years ago. When archaeologists reconstruct a world from artifacts, especially artifacts from a primaeval era, how certain can we be of the accuracy of their depiction?
Over to you!
Ellen Dissanayake: Homo Aestheticus. University of Washington Press: 1995.
Ellen Dissanayake: Review of Steven Mithen (see below) in Evolutionary Psychology 2005/3.
Steven Mithen: The Singing Neanderthals: The Origins of Music, Language, Mind and Body. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 2005.
Wolfgang Welsch: ‘Animal Aesthetics’. http://www.contempaesthetics.org/newvolume/pages/article.php?articleID=243
Notes from a presentation to The Philosophy Forum; first published for the Australian Humanist