Beauty and Ugliness in Art

Himadri Lahiri

Original: Syed Manzoorul Islam

Translation: Himadri Lahiri

[English translation of the chapter titled “Shilper Sundor O Asundor” from Syed Manzoorul Islam’s Bengali book Nandantattwa]

In art, one encounters expressions of both beauty and ugliness. It is as challenging to define the manifest signs of beauty as it is impossible to identify the features of ugliness. Nevertheless, we posit beauty and ugliness as binaries, much the same way we do light and darkness, God and the devil, the auspicious and the sinister. An object becomes beautiful when it is able to assume a meaningfully beauteous form, just as it is deemed ugly when it fails to do so. When viewed from aesthetic perspective, beauty, just like ugliness, has its refined and material forms. However, the form of ugliness is often gruesome; it does not provide any rasa or aesthetic flavour, neither does it evoke pleasure. Even though Sanskrit literature speaks of bibhatsa rasa, the flavour of the gruesome, it is not merely an expression of ugliness. If ugliness is conceived in opposition to beauty, or is understood as the absence of beauty, it amounts to exclusive negativity. In this respect, if aesthetic pleasure does not flow in an art object or if it is not sanctified by artistic qualities, it is to be accepted that there is a touch of ugliness in it. Certain essential properties are required for the expression of beauty – for example, harmony, proportionate measure, symmetry, wholeness, and a comprehensive expression of the materiality of the object; beauty is absent when all these qualities are absent; we regard this sense of absence of beauty as ugliness. Another judgement required here concerns whether beauty has its own distinct form or, along with it, whether ugliness possesses any special and specific form of its own. This issue is to be considered with philosophical precision, in the context of the distinct identity of the object, and the discussion of material- or form-dependent expression.¹ This is a difficult problem in philosophy and aesthetics. Acharya Surendranath believes that this great problem explains why attempts have not been made, whether in the Upanishad or in ancient philosophy and literature, to define the nature of beauty. This observation is worth  remembering – not merely because of the immense significance of the problem but also for explaining and interpreting various and often strange definitions of beauty and ugliness. From ancient Greece to modern aesthetics, beauty and ugliness are conceptual formations and are highly relative in nature. Here, what is considered to be the ultimate is merely a perception; it has not taken the form of truth. It is not possible for the artist, the philosopher or anybody else, to define the real form of what is called the ultimate truth, which is supposed to be revered by all artists.

To comprehend beauty through a general definition will be futile. Some objects are regarded as ideal beauties by common people. Most objects are beautiful according to individual tastes, instincts, cultures, styles of observation, and mindsets. Ideal beauty refers to a distinct expression of form that evokes an impersonal rasa or aesthetic taste and establishes a shanta rasa or serene emotion. Ideal beauty represents the unified expression of all markers of beauty; here comprehensive beauty emerges from the intense interaction of all its components. However, ideal beauty and ultimate beauty are not same. It can be said that ideal beauty is the effective and realised form of ultimate beauty. The common man can extend his aesthetic emotions up to ideal beauty; beyond this lies the realm of philosophers – the world for meditation by the beauty seekers.  The ideal beauty and the ultimate beauty of figures such as Helen of Troy, Shakuntala and Cleopatra depend on a long term purification process of this beauty. Only art knows how difficult, if not impossible, it is!

The artist, in the course of his or her meditation on beauty, has to transcend three layers. First, s/he is to feel the prescience of beauty, imagine its indistinct form, or to sense the suggestiveness of this form. In the second phase, this felt suggestiveness has to be transformed into an object of uninterrupted meditation and brought into the experiential phase; and finally, the artist has to shape it into a form and soak it with rasa. A syncretic attitude remains active throughout this three-phase process. Sensing beauty is not an inactive or disabling process, it is a creative and active process. Jagannath Pandit observes that beauty is an inherent feature inherent of an object; contact with it sparks an independent force in the human mind through which one derives pleasure. An important rejoinder here may be that the initiating force in beauty is an activating force which not only supports beauty but also opposes ugliness. The issue of ugliness arises in evaluating the power of beauty because beauty ceaselessly cancels ugliness through a Hegelian dialectic; or through syncretisation, while in the process of warding it off, internalises it to create the Supreme Beauty. Abanindranath’s observation may be recalled here: the person who searches for rasa in art experiences neither Heaven nor Hell. S/he sees beauty and ugliness dissolved in Supreme Beauty.

In art, the coexistence of beauty and ugliness awakens the sense of beauty, which, in some cases, renders ugliness renounceable; but this simple equation is not always applicable. If we consider beauty and ugliness disinterestedly, we can transcend the stage of acceptance or rejection. In this post-transcendence condition, the search for truth assumes pre-eminence. Questions such as ‘What is beauty?’ and ‘Why beauty?’ are not only relevant in the context of the search for beauty but also in respect of the pursuit of Truth because the lofty objectives of art lies in the search for truth. The simultaneous presence of beauty and ugliness is often found in Shakespeare. The juxtaposition of Desdemona and Othello, Miranda and Caliban, Titania and Bottom is meaningful because the playwright evokes the mood and the absence of beauty through it. He was in quest of the nature of these qualities without resorting to the easy paths of acceptance and rejection. Caliban is ugly, not beautiful, but he also dreams; the wealth of the infinite is revealed as the door of the sky opens. Critics are at their wit’s end to account for this attitude of Shakespeare towards Caliban, but the simple truth is that Shakespeare did not see ugliness or lack of beauty as a binary to beauty – instead, he viewed both as associated with the same reality, at least in his play The Tempest. Sometimes ugliness draws its own boundaries; through self-judgement, it renders itself disposable. In Chitrangada, Tagore demonstrates two aspects of beauty in the character of Chitrangada. Surupa and Kurupa are Chitrangada’s two inseparable selves; their expressions differ but the ordinary person cannot trace the difference between the inner self and the outer self. They regard ugliness as ugliness just as they see beauty as beauty. Although Arjun’s enlightenment takes place in the end, it never reaches the height of divine vision. However, Chitrangada achieves a disinterested vision. She calls external beauty as a ‘trap of lies,’ ‘deceit;’ its presence is found everywhere. Madana Deva has told Chitrangada:

Let the coloured mist pass

Let the bright illumination appear.

Let the maya get out of the way

Let the chariot of love appear

Let the lover’s eye discover

Form beyond form –

The conflict between what F. H. Bradley calls ‘appearance’ and ‘reality’ is reflected in Madana’s commentary. In Chitrangada’s terms, the reality is a ‘form beyond form.’ If we reject ugliness, how can we access Truth through it! The aesthetic critic W. T. Stace comments that if we consider a lack of beauty as moral inauspiciousness, ugliness then is a species of beauty. The opposite of beauty is not ugliness; it is rather what is not beautiful or what is aesthetically indifferent. In art, there is a need for what is not beautiful, in a different sense. A certain art critic observes that in both art and nature ugliness generates a sense of unease, even of pain. We know that art is not confined to any specific expression, style or form; it evokes diverse and strange senses and emotions. Rasas or moods are also characteristic features of art. From that point of view, the sense of pain that originates from what is not beautiful serves a purpose. If life does not permeate art, its purpose remains unfulfilled. Yet life implies conflicts. Conflicts are taken for granted in individual or community life, and there may be countless opposing forces in such conflicts. If this conflict is not embedded in art, there will be no warmth in it, howsoever perfect its structural pattern may be, or howsoever excellent or grammatically correct the expression may be. Aesthetic interest springs from the coexistence of beauty and ugliness, actions and reactions; it is through this dynamic that a faithful representation takes place.

Folk art exemplifies the profound relationship between beauty and ugliness, as well as their reciprocal roles in art. In the important fairy tales of folk art, beauty and ugliness are distinctly delineated; in fact, expression of such individual-centred beauty cannot be seen elsewhere. But it is noticeable that in the fairy tales of all countries ugliness coexists with the invocation of the beautiful. Giants, demons, witches, sorcerers, ghosts, goblins and similar other figures all represent forms of ugliness. Adventures of the protagonists take place mostly through regions infested with these characters, and justice is ultimately delivered with the rescue of the princess, the symbol of the ultimate beauty, and through the punishment of evil. Here operates a mythic pattern in which the expression of beauty and ugliness is sometimes direct, sometimes symbolic. Princesses of the fairy tales are symbols of ideal beauty, the princes are the devotees to that beauty. The artist’s own journey and identity are embedded in the structure of the fairy tale and its symbolic journey. He too invokes, through the exploration of beauty, what lies beyond beauty, and the ugliness through the exploration of ugliness.

One reason why ugliness is necessary alongside beauty is that ugliness is considered to be a stimulus to beauty. Beauty is considered legitimate and attractive precisely because of the existence of ugliness. Light is desirable only because there is darkness. Secondly, beauty is as much an active principle as ugliness is. It is said that if ugliness is viewed negatively, its active principle is rendered redundant. As a result, the active component, in comparison, is attributed solely to beauty. Croce regarded ugliness as legitimate in this respect. According to him, if there were no element of beauty within the ugliness and if it were complete in itself, then for that very reason it would not truly be ugliness. Disvalue would become non-value; active would become passive. This means that ugliness possesses an active quality. Like Croce, many critics have acknowledged the necessity of this active nature for art to be dynamic.

There may be many philosophic interpretations regarding why a beautiful object is beautiful. However, it can be claimed unequivocally that beauty does not have a causative factor. Beauty has no purpose to serve, that is an excess to its requirement. The beauty that is evoked in the image “Neel nabaghane ashara gagone til thai ar nahire” (roughly translated as: Sullen clouds are gathering fast in the sky of the Ashara month) does not fulfil any practical need; nobody will say that the pouring during the month of Ashara is beautiful because it benefits the farmer.  Such a notion may, however, be appended to the understanding of beauty. If it is appended, it is externally imposed. When the creation of purposive art is successful, the creative process is also invested with purpose. The created object, however, remains neutral. Many beautiful objects are created for some purpose or another, but the created object is first beautiful and then useful. Many people may want to exclude utility altogether from the creative process, many others may say that all beautiful things are created out of necessity. Both opinions contain an element of exaggeration, truth lies somewhere in between. In fact, an art object, the finished product of the creative process, is self-born. It can be perceived only in its own image, and not in the reflection of anything else. There may be an urge for life behind an art object, or an intensely deep aesthetic sense, its delight finding home in pleasure. But the art object remains outside the purview of discussion because of its being self-born. It does not, however, mean that the diversity of its creative processes or its objectives are cancelled here. Nakshi kantha, an embroidered quilt, wards off the winter cold, but it can also be displayed on a wall. In both cases, beauty of the nakshi kantha remains unchanged. This means that despite its material use, our perception of beauty of the nakshi kantha does not alter at all. The foundation of the apprehension expressed by the followers of isolationists called Kala Kaibalyabadi – that the utilitarians are damaging the nature of art by using it for material purpose – is rather weak. The practice of introducing the beauty of an art object is not to be found in utilitarianism or in the art of rhetoric, it is very much there in beauty’s infinite nature. Kant, in his philosophy of beauty, offers a solution to this debate: in aesthetics, the identity of a beautiful object lies in its purposeless purpose, that is, the purpose without direction or without clarity about its own character. However, beauty does have a purpose but that does not conform to the usual definition of purpose. It is beauty itself. The purpose of pleasure is pleasure just as the purpose of beauty is beauty itself. However, the purpose as understood by utilitarians and the purpose in Kant’s sense are not the same.

Beauty manifests itself through its earned form, harmony, and appropriateness of the object: the use of space or measurement, the full and proportional application of colour in art; coherence of tune in music; and the spontaneous flow of thought, language and rhythm in poetry. Similarly, the expression of ugliness occurs in the absence of these qualities or in their inappropriate or perverse application. But this is irrelevant in the ultimate consideration of an art object’s worth. The concepts of beauty and ugliness are in fact relative. George Santayana observes that harmony or consistency is imposed merely from outside, based on external measures, which cannot generate dynamism on its own, or it cannot generate dynamism elsewhere in the art object. It is partial and temporary, there is no problem in calling it maya, an illusion. Yet what may appear to a connoisseur of art as externally imposed, temporary and partial may appeal to another as spontaneous, enduring and complete. An apparently ugly object may seem beautiful to another person at a particular moment. A stinking dustbin in an alley may not appear as ugly when illuminated by moon shine; the dark-complexioned, ugly nurse may seem the most beautiful woman in the world at the joyful moment of one’s recovery from illness. In fact, beauty is a mental feeling aroused by contact with the beautiful. This beauty may be the ideal beauty or apparently beautiful, or there may not be any beauty at all in this beauty in the conventional sense of the term. The mind creates beauty, and can lend it validity, it does not matter whether the world has that gaze or not, whether the world accepts it or not. Hence immediately cancelling or rejecting ugliness will be an inconsiderate act from an aesthetic perspective. Some art critics emerging from the Pre-Raphaelite movement disparaged the Post-Impressionist art exhibition held in London in 1910, labelling it as ugly. They claimed that it was unnecessary and perverse. However, even before a decade had passed Goethe condemned Kleist’s plays, which were brilliant and endowed with individualism, after their publication – he said that his plays were written for an ‘invisible stage.’³ After some time Kleist’s theatre became fully visible and also received Goethe’s praise. Beauty is often judged in conjunction with something else, often for their components…. But what everyone forgets, while evaluating beauty and ugliness, is that essence of beauty is beauty itself and that of ugliness is ugliness. Whatever conditions we may impose on it, we have to return ultimately to this truth.

 

Notes

1. The original Bengali text, on which this translation is based, contains several inaccuracies. Some sentences are incomplete or their meanings are unclear. There are also spelling mistakes and other errors. In this particular sentence, some liberty has been taken to convey a coherent meaning.
2. In the Bengali original, it seems that Goethe’s (1749-1832) comment has some reference to the 1910 exhibition held in London or to the innovative nature of the art works displayed there. However, this is absurd because the exhibition was organised much later. However, his reference to Heinrich von Kleist (1777-1811) is quite plausible.